Bloodlines
by The Lady Rhae
Summary: Hey so remember way back when in CoG when Valentine tasked Jonathan with bringing Clary to him well my depraved mind thought a version where he took Clary back to Valentine should exist in this world. The usual Clonathan pairings and twisted desires but also throwing in a pent up lonely Valentine who sees his daughter as his wife returned to him from before her betrayal.
1. Chapter 1: Taken

Disclaimer: Obviously I'm not Cassandra Clare no matter how much my bank account wishes I was. These are not my characters this is not my world, I own nothing except the depraved twist I added to this brilliant work of fiction.

AN: Clearly in the rating you can see this is graphic explicit content if you are under the age of 18 get out. I don't really have a plan for where this is going just thought of something so sexually explicit that the devil sent me a text saying see you soon so I thought yeah I'll share that with others and drag them down with me. You have been warned repeatedly so don't try to complain about it later. Enjoy.

 **Warning graphic rape, sexually content, incest, shameless smut, I'm going to hell for writing this. Again I say rated M for a reason if you can't handle that leave.**

* * *

 _"Wrong?" The hurt on his face vanished, replaced by disbelief. "Clary, we have a connection. You know we do. Since the first second I saw you—"_

 _"Sebastian, don't—"_

 _"I felt like you were someone I'd always been waiting for. I saw you felt it too. Don't tell me you didn't."_

 _But that hadn't been what she'd felt. She'd felt as if she'd walked around a corner in a strange city and suddenly seen her own brownstone looming up in front of her. A surprising and not entirely pleasant recognition, almost: How can this be here?_

 _"I didn't," she said._

 _The anger that rose in his eyes—sudden, dark, uncontrolled—took her by surprise. He caught her wrists in a painful grasp. "That's not true."_

 _She tried to pull away. "Sebastian—"_

 _"It's not true." The blackness of his eyes seemed to have swallowed up the pupils. His face was like a white mask, stiff and rigid._

 _"Sebastian," she said as calmly as she could. "You're hurting me."_

 _-The Mortal instruments City of Glass by Cassandra Clare_

"I'm sorry Clarissa this isn't how I planned on this day going." He loosened his grip on her wrist by a fraction not letting go entirely but no longer causing her pain.

"It's fine, you can't blame yourself for Fell not wanting to help me. Just let me go and take me back to the city I left a note for Amatis but she's probably worried sick." She hoped the knowledge that someone knew she was with him would snap him out of whatever trance he was in but the darkness remained in his eyes gleaming like a those of a predator preparing to dive in for the kill. Clary wouldn't even admit it to herself in this moment but she was terrified. She yanked at her wrist again hoping to pull it free, "Please Sebastian, my brother is probably worried sick about me."

He tightened his grip on her wrist then ran his other hand up her arm pulling the sleeve of her coat up with it revealing the milky white flesh beneath. "I doubt your brother is worried all that much Angel." 'How could I be worried when I have you all to myself away from any prying eyes' He thought to himself as his sweet sister continued to struggle against him.

"My name Is Clary not angel and I would appreciate it if you would let go of me now and take me back to the city Sebastian." Clary was actively panicking now and trying not to show it as she attempted to keep her voice steady and look him in the eyes. She couldn't understand what he meant by his last statement all she knew was that she didn't like the way he was looking at her exposed flesh.

"Oh my sweet Clarissa that is not my name and I'm afraid I wont be taking you back to the city anytime soon, orders are orders and I can't disappoint father he is so looking forward to seeing you again." He wrapped one of his arms around her chest to hold her in place and used the other to grab his stele out of his weapons belt. She was openly struggling against him at this point unsuccessfully.

"I don't under-AHH!" She cried out as she felt him carve a rune into her arm.

"My name is Jonathan sweet sister of mine and Jace wont be coming to save you." Clary fell against his chest unable to support her own weight as the rune took effect

"That's impossible, please just let me go..." Clary's voice was fading as she fell slack against her brothers chest. He gathered her slight form into his arms as she lost consciousness then placed her upon the dead mans horse before mounting it behind her. He felt the curves and contours of her relaxed body mold into his own and could barely suppress a groan as her head lolled to the side exposing a pale strip of flesh amid her fiery curls. His gaze followed the path of freckles dusted along her neck that vanished down into her coat between her breasts.

Jonathan couldn't resist tilting his head down to nuzzle his face against such temptation as his mouth ghosted over the column of her throat he traced the delicate patterns of freckles with his tongue. Roused slightly by the cool sensation on her neck she faintly moaned on protest. "Please...st...stop...Jace help me."

At the sound of the Angel boy's name on his sisters lips Jonathan's entire demeanor shifted as he tightened his hold on the semi-conscious woman in his arms and nipped at her ear with his incisors and threateningly whispered in her ear as she groaned in protest completely lost to the power of the ruin. "You are mine now sweet sister always and forever. Your Jace may try to take you from me but I will tear him and anyone else apart if they dare come between us. He took everything from me, he will not have you as well." Jonathan didn't particularly care if his sister heard his declaration as she finally slipped away from the waking world, it wasn't a promise to her after all. It was a promise to himself, he was forced to grow up without love but now he was stronger and no one could make him continue live without it.

He settled his sisters form against him and set off for the cottage where their father was waiting. He was almost regretful for having to turn her over to whatever hell his father had planned for her but she was strong and had already proved herself capable of handling their father.

A gentle smile appeared on his face as he looked down at her and recalled Valentine's fury as he recounted Clary's destruction of his ship with one rune. Yes his sister was strong it will be a pleasure to break her.

* * *

As he arrived at the cottage and dismounted he pulled Clary into his arms and walked inside. Their father was sitting at the table going over the summoning rituals and looked up when he entered. The twisted leer he gave Clary's sleeping form made Jonathan sick to his stomach.

"Excellent work Jonathan you can place your sister in her bedroom then go back to the city and wait for nightfall tomorrow to take down the wards." The disinterest of his words not matching the way his eyes followed them as he entered the room further. Jonathan wanted to protest but years of being beaten into submission have taught him to hold his tongue.'Now isn't the time, soon, but not now. The quicker I leave the quicker I can get back.' He thought to himself as he carried his sister down the hall to the room made up for her.

"I'll come back to you soon Angel and then nothing will ever keep us apart again." Jonathan placed his sister on the bed carefully then bent down to kiss her forehead as Valentine looked on from the doorway. The younger man paused in front of his father halfway through the door as if to speak but seemed to think better of it and continue on his way.

Valentine closed the door behind his retreating son and locked door before replacing the key into his pocket. He then walked over to the bed where his daughter lay and sat down. He almost couldn't believe how much she looked like Jocelyn, before she betrayed him...when she still loved him. He reached a hand out and wound a lock of her hair around his fingers he ran his hand through her hair then trailed it down her clothed arm. When he got to the sleeve of her coat he pulled it up to reveal the rune Jonathan used to render her unconscious, it was fading more rapidly than expected.

He took her coat and shoes off then walked out of the room to his study, placing the articles down he proceeded to the closet and grabbed three lengths of rope and a knife then went back to the room where his daughter lay unconscious.

Approaching the bed he unwound the rope and and placed the knife on the bedside table then proceeded to tie it to Clary's right wrist then weave it through the headboard before attaching her left wrist. He repeated the process with each of her legs tying them spread open to either corner of the bed posts with just enough slack for her knees to bend. He stepped back to admire his handy work.

Now that she was properly secured Valentine ran his hands along her body and the delicate curve of her hips and back digging his fingers into her soft pliant ass before he found what he was looking for. He reached into her back pocket and removed the stele that his wife carried oh so long ago. Having what he desired he removed his hands from her body put the instrument in his pocket and watched as she began to stir a little more insistently.

"It's time to wake up Clarissa there is much to discuss." Valentine said as the teenage girl eased more and more into the waking world. Her eyes open and again he was faced with how much like her mother she looked.

"Where am I?" Still half dazed she tried to sit up before realizing her wrists we bound and attached to the headboard she looked down to see her legs treated in a similar fashion. Upon her realization she became fully conscious but still not totally aware of the situation.

"Where you belong Clarissa, with your family." Valentine said as he sat down at the foot of the bed watching the panic overtake her eyes.

"You are not my family. You've taken me from them, but they'll find me and you will die."

"Such big words for such a little girl. Tell me of those degenerates and traitors you call your family who will be the one to end me? The only person strong enough would be Jonathan but you remember how that happened last time, he couldn't do it and now the Clave will bow to me."

"You really are insane no wonder Mom left you." Clary tried to throw a barb at the psychopath currently an arms length away from her. Valentine was not amused.

"You're mother betrayed me and took with her my greatest success."

"I don't think you can really take credit for the mortal cup, after all it was Raziel who made it not you." Clary responded confused by his words but trying not to show it.

"You misunderstand dear one my greatest success is not that useless hunk of adamas, but you my sweet daughter. My unintentional experiment you who have all the power of the Heaven flowing through you veins. That rune you brother gave you would have knocked anyone else out for a full day at least. You've recovered in an hour. Not to even mention your little stunt with the opening rune. You are so much more powerful than I could have ever expected and I'd be a fool to underestimate you again." During Valentine's monologue he inched himself closer to Clary's bound form and placed his hand on her leg running it up her calf as if stroking something precious. She used the slack in the rope to pull her leg away, but this only caused him to come closer, she resolutely ignored the lustful look in Valentine's eyes as he was once again privy too the sight of her exposed flesh.

"I was so focused on making the perfect warrior I sacrificed my own son to a demon that now walks in his skin and thinks itself human, but that soulless creature will never understand anything more than bloodshed and anger. I tried again with the Herondale boy using angel blood instead, but though I love him for it Jace will always be too soft. I had given up, then I heard about you. I didn't know Jocelyn was pregnant when she ran, but I heard a few years after she left me rumors that she had given birth to a little redheaded girl who could only have been my child."

"Why are you telling me all of this? What do you want from me?" Fear and panic in her voice it was all she could do not to cry at the situation.

"You look just like her. I'm sure you must hear that all the time." Valentine said as his hand crept further up her leg, the other moving to her hip as she tried to squirm away.

"You would have been perfect in every way if you mother hadn't taken you from me. I would have raised you to be a warrior stronger, faster, and smarter than any other, but she took that from me, from you. My perfect avenging angel you would have been, but now you're soft." His hand at her hip squeezed and felt the give in the flesh there and Valentine couldn't help but groan despite the looks of horror and disgust on his daughter's face. He was practically on top of her at this point his hand that had been stroking her legs moved up to her waist then to the delicate underside of her breasts.

"Please stop I'll do anything else just please let me go." Clary was openly crying now wanting to scream for help but knowing there was no one around for miles. Her father lying on top of her now buried his face in her hair and inhaled.

"I'm afraid I won't be doing that Clarissa I won't be letting you go ever again. You are my gift from God a sign that my path is true and righteous. He has given me my wife returned to me as she was when we first fell in love before her betrayal, and the means to create my perfect warriors."

Clary pulled hard at the ropes that bound her to the point where her wrists bleed from the strain. Tears ran down her face as she rubbed tree wrists raw against the rope trying to get away, she let out a helpless sob as her father continued to run his hands along her body.

"You are the key something changed inside of you from the angel blood I gave your mother, yet it didn't make you soft and weak as it did Jace. No my daughter you are strong and together we will create a new race of shadowhunters more powerful than all of those before them."

"NO, PLEASE DON'T! ANYTHING BUT THAT PLEASE JUST LET ME GO! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME!" Clary didn't care about the futility of her screams not with what she currently faced as Valentine removed his hand from her breast and reached over to retrieve the knife from the bedside table. He ran the steel blade along Clary's stomach before digging it into the waistband of her jeans.

"Stop struggling or I might cut you on accident. I don't want this to be any more painful than it has to be, you are still my daughter after all I do care for your well being." Valentine ran the knife along the seam of her jeans eyes burning with lust at the flesh exposed to him.

"Exactly I'm your daughter! Your flesh and blood how could you even consider this!?" Trying to convey her rage and confusion through choked sobs as her father repeated the process on her other pant leg. The jeans fell away exposing her lower half to the deranged man above her. There was a dusting of freckles up her legs that increased in number the closer they got to the apex of her thighs where they disappeared beneath her plain green cotton underwear.

"Let's be honest Clarissa after everything I did to you while you were in your mother's womb you're barely even human." He whispered the last bit in her ear barely able to restrain himself at the sight laid out before him.

He ran his tongue up her jaw from her ear and captured her mouth in a bruising kiss biting at her lips when she refused to open them until the kiss tasted of her blood. He ran the knife up her side causing her to gasp and open her mouth, his tongue dove in at the opening he shoved it down her throat all but choking her with it till she bit down on the sensitive organ in retaliation.

"AAAAHHHHHHHH" Clary screamed out as Valentine stabbed the knife into the exposed flesh of her thigh then twisted it for good measure before removing it and quickly cutting away her shirt to reveal the black bra beneath. "Just relax daughter it will make things so much easier on yourself in the long run."

"Please don't do this to me. I'm a virgin, please anything but this." Clary could no longer see through the tears as she pleaded with her father to no avail. She felt the bed shift as he climbed off of her. Clary turned her head believing that maybe he decided against raping her only to see Valentine removing his clothes before mounting her again completely naked.

"Don't worry about it Clarissa just lie back and think of England and I'll do the rest, it will only hurt for a moment I swear." Valentine used the knife to cut away the last barriers between them and Clary was exposed. He ran a hand up and down the side of her body feeling the exposed flesh then stopped on her breast his thumb reaching out to circle her nipple not quite touching it but keeping up a consistent stimulation as Clary squeezed her eyes shut actively trying to pretend that she wasn't here and this wasn't happening to her as choked sobs escaped from her throat. He watched her nipple swell with arousal from the stimulation and bent his head to take it into his mouth, he repeated the circling motion with his tongue before scraping his teeth across the sensitive flesh causing Clary to arch her back in shock and a surprised moan to escape from between her clenched lips.

He placed the hand that had been holding her hip at the apex of her thigh and slid his finger along her tight dry entrance. He detached his mouth from her breast and moved it down her body licking and sucking as he went before he reached her cunt and sucked her clit into his mouth causing Clary to arch completely off the bed pulling at her bindings as she let out a scream of pleasure embarrassed at the sound before it was even done passing from her lips. "Your mother was a screamer to." Valentine said as he chuckled to himself. "You are disgusting" Clary said through clenched teeth though the effect was ruined by her hips bucking up to meet his mouth. Encouraged by her reactions Valentine shoved his tongue into her cunt with no prelude and groaned at the sensation of her core tightening around the invasion. He thrust his tongue into her entrance moistening the cavern enough for him to stick a finger inside of her.

The way her body reacted to yet another unfamiliarity had Valentine groaning into Clary's pussy, she was so tight around just his finger the thought of how she'll feel wrapped around his rigid dick caused him to harden even more with desire and the groan he released vibrated through her forcing a tortured wanton moan from Clary's lips. He inserted a second finger and Clary continued to whimper helplessly beneath him as he devoured her cunt.

Tears ran down Clary's face as her Father continued his assault on her body shamed at her weakness and her bodies reactions. Growing up in a crowded city she'd always been told to be weary of strangers on the subway, and of being caught alone in an isolated allly. Rape was a thing society liked to warn against but she never actually thought it would happen to her and especially not by someone she knew.

She cried out when he had removed her clothes.

She cried out when he placed his hands on her body.

She cried out when he thrust his tongue into her cunt.

She just cried when the orgasm forced it's way through her body.

She moaned, and groaned, and cried out in pleasure her body couldn't deny as she writhed beneath her assailant in ecstasy she didn't ask for, and found the pleasure to be more scarring than the pain. Tears rolling down her cheeks all the while.

Valentine continued to lap at his daughter's cunt milking her orgasm for all it's worth as she screamed in pleasure as Jocelyn used to when he made love to her. The last time he'd had her as she lay unresponsive beneath him was far too reminiscint of the last few months they shared together, after his betrayal but before her own. She never screamed for him again after Jonathan.

When he had her lifeless body here he had tried taking her to see if her body even still desired him. Instead his stomach turned through the necrophilia as her realized the woman he once loved and who loved him back was gone from this body. He still talked to her, but he never touched her again.

Looking down at his daughter's body splayed out and spread beneath him her recent pleasure told in the delicate flush to her skin glowing beneath a sheen of sweat that coated her body. Her chest heaved up and down with her frequent breaths and choked sobs the motion of her breasts hypnotic to him as he straddled her hips.

From this position Valentine continued to survey Clary's body in the afterglow of her orgasm. Her lack of the rigours training shadowhunters received from birth left her body soft and pliant beneath the hands he returned to her body. He started them in her hair laid out around her head as if it were a crown of heavenly fire, more golden than her mother's auburn locks but all the more beautiful for it.

She turned her face away from him eyes shut tightly against the sensations still rolling through her body though she's managed to quiet herself by biting down on her own lip. Valentine placed a hand upon her cheek to turn her head to face him though her eyes remained closed tears still escaped through the tightly shut lids. Valentine's other hand came up to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

Resolving to get her to open her eyes he ran his finger with the moisture of her tear down the column of her neck. He felt her swallow hard against the gentle sensation of his father like touch. 'He had no right to feign gentleness' she thought as his finger continued along her biddy.

He paused at her heaving breasts and circled her left nipple with his finger the motion and moisture causing the sensitive flesh there to stiffen and peak. He bent his head and took her nipple in his mouth as his hand remained to tease and grope the soft flesh beneath them, all the while his eyes were trained on her face.

He bit down on the hardened flesh and she released a groan as her teeth bit into her own lip drawing blood in an attempt to keep quiet. A rivulet of blood dripped from the split in her lip and noticing this Valentine worked his mouth up her body from her breast enjoying the salty taste ofher skin on his tongue. He paused to bite and suckle at her neck easily leaving marks of his affection all over the pale flesh before continuing on up her chin following the trail of blood to her lips that had been his goal.

He placed his mouth upon hers and just held it there his eyes wide open hers tightly shut. The hand that had been on her breast trailed down her side to the open wound on her thigh. His thumb reached out to delicately brush over the wound as his tongue reached out of his mouth to draw at the split in her lip and pull her lower lip from between her clenched teeth forcing her mouth open. His thumb pressed into the wound on her thigh in warning before he invaded her mouth with his tongue once more.

Clary didn't know what she was trying harder to ignore her father's insistent tongue shoving itself down her throat as she pulled shallow breaths in through her nose or his hard insistent dick that lay between her thighs not quite touching her dripping cunt but the way Valentine lay atop her caused it to rub against the sensitive flesh there every once in a while as he bobbed his head to get his tongue further into her mouth, the action reminiscint of his earlier treatment of the lips lower on her body.

Valentine feeling she's had enough time to recover from her orgasm and no longer content with her current state of non reaction moved his hand on her thigh higher to the curve of her ass his fingers played with the sensitive strip of skin beneath the supple mass of flesh pulling a surprised moan from her which vibrated against his tongue.

"Kiss me back." Clary tried to shake her head in refusal but his hand that had been content to weave itself through her hair tightened it's grip on her head as his other hand drove his fingernails into the flesh her ass surely leaving more marks on her body.

She hesitantly lifted her chin and moved her lips against his own. Disgust and shame rising in her as she continued to keep her eyes closed much to Valentine's dismay.

With his small victory of his daughter's responsive lips against his own Valentine moved the hand that had been holding her mouth to his own down the woefully ignored right half of her body. An oversight he'll have to remedy another time his hardened cock reminded him as it felt the heat radiating from his daughters sopping cunt.

With both hands on her hips, thumbs grazing her pelvic bones, he lifted her core to his own and ground his shaft into her cunt letting out a groan at how right it felt.

Removing one hand from her hips he ran two fingers along her slit and was disappointed to find that soaked as though she was, she wasn't wet enough to lose her virginity to his rather sizeable cock, not without removing all pleasure from the experience. He reached past her to the bedside table again to retrieve the lubrication oil he had hoped he wouldn't have to use.

Placing her hips back down on the bed her removed his touch from her body as he kneeled between her legs to admire his handy work.

The angel splayed out before him could be nothing less than a gift from heaven itself he thought as she turned her face in confusion at the sudden absence of his body. The golden red curls on her head and between her legs darkened with sweat and her skin was flushed a healthy pink beneath the gold dusted freckles trailing along leading to all of his favorite places on her body.

Her kiss bruised lips, swollen from the rough treatment both had been giving the soft rose petals all night.

Her breasts, nipples peaked and hardened with her unwilling arousal, the marks of his lips dark against the skin scattered but numerous.

Her cunt, glistening with her arousal, her clit red, swollen, and exposed to the open air. He focused on this as he opened the bottle of oil and poured some out into his palm before taking the pulsing shaft between his own legs into hand stroking it to the sight of the fallen angel before him just has her eyes shot open revealing flaming emerald orbs.

At the absence of sensation Clary couldn't help but open her eyes in the hope that Valentine decided against going through with his depraved desires only to be confronted with the sight of the naked man kneeled between her thighs with his cock in his hand and his eyes now fixed to her own.

Up until now she had been resolutely ignoring his body, imagining a faceless stranger above her, but when confronted with the sight she couldn't help but be awed at the physical specimen presented to her. All shadowhunters are beautiful, some more than others, as a testament to the angel's blood that runs through our veins. Valentine looked as if he had been sculpted in the image of the Angel Raziel himself.

Clary had never seen a penis in person before until now but she couldn't imagine his size was average. She tried to close her legs in fear of being torn apart by her father's cock but Valentine's presence between her legs prevented this.

"Please don't do this." The soft words echoed in the other wise silent room Clary only half aware of even having spoken them turned her head away again as a tear slid down her cheek.

Valentine reached his hand up and brushed the tear away with his thumb then held her face with one hand as the other guided his cock to her waiting entrance.

"You don't understand now Clarissa but you will soon. This is what you were made for. Now keep your eyes on mine and I promise the hard part will be over soon." Clary looked into the black orbs looming above her and saw her own helpless fave staring back at her. The shame that arose in her at her weakness held her eyes to her reflection in Valentine's own as he pushed the tip of his dick inside her then placed both his hands on her hips to pull her body onto his.

He held her lower half in the air by her hips as he pushed shallow thrusts into her body trying not to shatter the fragile connection in their locked gaze as he positioned himself to take her virginity.

When he felt her barrier he couldn't help his feeling of smug satisfaction as he was poised to deflower the angel beneath him.

With both hands on her hips he thrust the full length of his dick inside of her with as much force as he could command and as her hymn broke something inside her eyes did as well. Clary opened her mouth in a silent scream at his invasion hands griping the rope that bound her to the bed and get thighs squeezing Valentine's hips as her whole body clenched in reaction.

"Beautiful." Valentine said as he broke their tentative eye contact to look down at where their bodies were now joined in the most intimate way possible.

Both their thighs taut with the effort of holding still, he on the part of trying to keep his body being dislodged from hers, her on the part of trying to dislodge him from her body.

"No more please, it hurts." Clary whimpered in pain as her body clenched further around her father's cock. Valentine pried her legs apart before pulling out till just the tip of his body was inside her's before thrusting back in at an angle that put pressure on her clit causing her to cry out at the brief flash of pleasure.

"Don't worry Clarissa just relax and it will pass." Valentine held himself still inside her and watched as her features adjusted to the sensation.

He repeated the action again this time grinding his pelvis into her clit before pausing once more. When he didn't see her face contort in pain he did it again. Groaning he buried his face in her neck as he began to pound his throbbing dick into her pussy.

Clary groaned quietly from behind clenched teeth, her face flashed in shame, as her father violated her over and over in wild abandon his cock gliding in and out of her cunt with practiced ease.

She closed her eyes again and tried to forget.

Tried to forget where she was.

Tried to forget who she was with.

Tried to forget what was happening to her body.

Tried to remember a reason to keep fighting.

All the while Valentine continued to mercilessly take her body as the fight slowly drained out of her.

Sensing her withdrawal Valentine lifted her lower half with a vice grip on her hips and locked her knees in place so that he body was arched up to meet his and her breasts bounced in time with his thrusts.

Running his right hand along her body he took the neglected mass of flesh in his hand and proceeded to trace her areola with his thumb tool her nipple came to a stiff peak.

"Ghaaa!" Clary cried out as her father harshly pinched the sensitive skin between his thumb and forefinger. She clenched her eyes together harder not wanting to see what he was doing to her.

Valentine looked down at the Angel spread bare before him fiery gold and bound to this mortal world for himself alone. How could anything he has done have been wrong when Heavan sees fit to reward him with one of their own bound in the mortal flesh of his one true love. He picked up the speed of his thrusting with an increased desire to claim the flushed creature beneath him.

Clary whined as the pace of his assault increased not knowing what it meant for her exactly but assuming it wasn't anything good all the whole keeping her eyes closed.

Valentine took her close eyes almost as a challenge he groped at every sensitive bit of flesh on her body pulling everything from the quietest whimper to the most passionate screams from her mouth but the fiery emeralds remained closed to him.

He tried to use pain clawing at her skin and gouging his thumb into the all but forgotten knife wound on her thigh , but still her eyes remained closed.

Valentine was not as young as he once was and despite the stamina runes burning on his body he couldn't keep up his ravenous assault much longer. He replaced his hands on her hips and finished himself off with a series of harsh elongated thrusts.

Balls deep in his daughter he finally let go with a roar his cum hot and thick painting Clary's insides white.

He collapsed atop her when his orgasm finished lapping and sucking at her lips trying to get them open.

"You belong to me, now and forever."

Tears escaped from beneath her eyelids at his words, knowing the truth of them but still unable to face the reality of her situation.

After what seemed like an eternity Valentine removed his now flaccid member from her person. Though she was glad to be free of him she wasn't prepared for the empty feeling that spread through her body from where they had been joined.

She kept her eyes closed as she heard him redress and gather his things.

She kept her eyes closed when he cut the ropes binding her wrists.

She kept her eyes closed as he left the room locking her inside.

She kept her eyes closed until she passed out from exhaustion and hoped to wake up and find it was all just a terrible dream.

* * *

AN: More plot than I had intended but like I always tell my boyfriend there has to be some buildup you can't just dive right in with the whips and ball gags. I hope you enjoyed it I'll post more if desired.

The party bus to hell leaves at noon sharp be there or be square.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: So wow did not expect the response I got, thank you all for the comments and follows they legitimately got me through the end of the semester. I took the comments I received into consideration (more Jon I get it) and now I think I have a solid direction where this story is going...so here...I'll talk more at the end.

* * *

Jonathan was not feeling like himself.

That is to say Jonathan was feeling.

He hated the thought of his sister alone and defenseless with their pathological father. Hatred was a very familiar emotion to him, the ball of restless energy in the pit of his stomach that kept tugging him back in the direction of his sister was not familiar.

Jonathan was anxious, hed never cared enough about anything in his life to ever feel this before and it was unsettling though at the same time not unpleasant. He was worried about the looks he saw in his father's eyes, looks that didn't speak of his prefered methods of torture.

He needed to get back to his sister now and he couldn't wait till nightfall.

"Time to do a little climbing." Jonathan remarked to himself as he made his way to the far side of the demon towers.

* * *

Max was pretty sure people weren't supposed to climb the towers, or at least that's what he thought when he looked out the window and saw someone doing it.

'The adults aren't home, maybe Alec will know what to do.' He thought to himself as he ran downstairs to find his siblings.

* * *

Pain.

That's all Clary felt as she woke for the second time in this unfamiliar environment. It shot through her body as she sat up against the headboard not yet opening her eyes wishing to deny the reality of her situation for just a bit longer.

She pulled her hand towards her face and was pleased to find that her hands were no longer bound to the bed. She tried to pull her legs in only to find that they were actually still restrained.

Clary opened her eyes training them specifically on her ankles. There were red rings around the skin beneath the ropes caked over with scabs and dried blood she reached her hands down to untie herself and paused when she saw her wrists in a similar state.

Pulling the rope away from the open wounds hurt more than leaving it but Clary needed to survey her prison if she wanted to escape.

After untying herself she made her way to the edge of the bed and placed her feet on the floor. Clary stood on shaking legs clutching the bedpost for stability, she looked down to see the shredded remains of her clothing and tried her best not to start crying again.

Looking up from the floor she did a brief scan of her surroundings. Aside from the bed there was a dresser and wardrobe in one corner of the room, as well as a desk in another, with two doors on the walls. Clary went to the door directly in front of the bed and found it locked, when she tried the one to the right of the bed it opened to reveal a bathroom.

Bathroom may have been an exaggeration, it was a large closet with a toilet, a sink, and a claw footed tub with a shower head stand. She closed the door behind her and walked into the room none the less and turned on the faucet for the shower.

She sat down in the tub beneath the spray, not taking the time to wait for the water to heat up. There was a loofah and bar of soap on a rack attached to the shower head.

She grabbed both and methodically worked up a lather in her hands before looking down at her body.

The fluids from last night were in various states of drying in streaks down her thighs.

Clary couldn't stand the idea of being touched there ever again but she scrubbed every inch of her body raw as the memories of Valentine's hands on her body from last night played over like some gruesome motion picture in her head. She paid extra attention to her inner thighs creating friction burns on the already irritated flesh in her vigor.

She scrubbed her body until the water went cold and she was left red and raw, crying on the floor of the tub.

When she finally managed to pull herself up she noticed a mirror on the back of the door.

Walking over to it was almost like looking at someone else for Clary, the steam still misting the edges from her shower added a dream like quality to the image before her.

In it a short girl with wild red hair looked back at her. She was naked. Clary had almost forgotten that bit.

There were bruises all over her body, purple blue splotches on her red flushed skin, some made by his fingers some by his mouth.

All the scratches and cuts on her body had slowly began to bleed again.

Clary felt like she'd been hit by a car, her body ached so much, but when she looked up at her face aside from the bags beneath her eyes she didn't look different.

She felt damaged, and dirty, and untouchable.

She felt changed, but for the most part she looked exactly the same as before if not a little worse for wear.

She heard a key flip in the lock in the main room.

"Clarissa?" Valentine called her from the bedroom. The noise startled her back and she bumped into the sink. The commotion bringing her father into the bathroom.

"There you are daughter, how are you feeling this morning." Valentine kept his eyes trained on hers during the exchange but his mind wandered back to last night after he'd had her.

The bruises on her skin mapping out every place he'd touched her, held her, and kissed her.

Her legs still spread open revealing his seed overflowing from inside her.

Her tousled red hair spread beneath her like a crown of flames.

His salvation and saving grace, soon he will have the Clave on their knees, and then he will make nephilim stronger than Raziel could have ever imagined.

Clary brought her arms up to cover he chest as Valentine continued to block the doorway.

"What do you want." Her tone was cool and firm, brokering no argument and not even really a question.

"Now Clarissa is that any way to speak to your father?" Clary sneered at him almost laughing before she responded.

"Now Valentine is this any way to treat your daughter?" Both looked at each other sizing up their opponent before continuing.

"You're right, I suppose. You aren't any more my daughter than Jonathan is Jocelyn's son."

"While we're on that topic, why does Jace think he's your son?" Clary didn't have any time to process this information last night but now she's free to ask questions to someone who'll know the answer.

"Because I raised him like he was. Jace is an orphan I'm the only parent he's ever known, he knows me better than almost anyone else in this world, as I know him, and he knows I wasn't lying when I said I loved him."

"And where is your actual son in this equation? Why didn't you raise them together?" Clary was genuinely curious as to why Valentine went through all the trouble of building two separate lives to keep the two Jonathans apart.

"My son died before he was born, and a demon walks around with his face everyday to remind me of what I did. He is my only mistake and my worst regret, if I could go back I would, but I can't so now I must atone for my sin and care for the monster I created. I couldn't keep him in the same house as something so pure." Valentine looked away from her and down at his own hands towards the end of his response and Clary didn't know what was more disturbing, the fact that he seemed genuinely remorseful, the fact that he actually thought this about his son, or the fact that she was still completely naked.

"You keep saying things like demon but I thought nephilim blood was always dominant, how is he any different from Jace and I if we were all your experiments, what did you do to him?" Valentine looked back up at her and smiled.

"So you have been paying attention. Demon blood Clarissa. That is what is different about your brother. While your mother was pregnant with him I gave her small quantities of powdered demon blood to try and enhance the child's strength in the same fashion of the night and moon's children. It is not fair that we are the warriors blessed by the heavens to protect this world yet we are little more than humans with fancy tattoos."

"So you tried to make a demon shadowhunter hybrid? With your own son?!" Clary was horrified at her father's revelation, she couldn't believe anyone could do that to a child period, let alone their own first born.

"He wasn't the first or the only he was just the first to survive, that's why it has to be you, my blood, Morgenstern blood is the key."

"So he's good enough to be your cannon fodder but not good enough to be considered human."

"Jonathan wouldn't understand even if I tried." Valentine's deadpan reply was as emotionless as his face as if he were talking about an object and not a person much less his first born child. Clary felt a stab of pity for her brother having grown up like that, then she remembered how she got in this situation and her pity shriveled up and died.

"So Jonathan was the soldier and Jace was the son."

"Not entirely, I raised them exactly the same they just made different choices."

"Did you even give Jonathan a choice, you say he wouldn't have understood even if you tried. Which means you didn't try you just never loved him. How can one be expected to understand something they've never experienced?"

"You're a clever one aren't you? In that same vein however, how do you know he would have if I had? You don't know your brother Clarissa." Valentine had returned his usually demeanor of superiority and condescension to his face and both of them were done with the conversation, but still Clary had to have the last word.

"I may not know him but that wasn't my choice, and I'll bet you don't know him as well as you think you do but that was your choice."

"As pleasant as this conversation is I do have other things to do with my day. I only came to check-in on you, and make sure you were getting settled in." Valentine shifted the conversation as effortlessly as exhaling and it took Clary a second to catch up.

"I have no intention of settling in, I won't be here much longer I promise." Valentine chuckled as if he knew something she didn't.

"I suppose you are right about that, we'll most likely be moving to Morgenstern Manor after the Clave surrenders to me tonight."

"You're delusional if you think you are going to win this that easily."

"Betraying my brothers in arms isn't easy for me Clarissa even if it is for their own good. Make no mistake I will emerge from this battle victorious and usher in a new era of greatness for the shadowhunter race."

"Thanks for the tragic back story, I'll make sure to tell the Clave you at least felt bad about slaughtering countless innocents."

"Sarcasm, Jonathan used to use that a lot then I beat it out of him."

"Which one?"

"Does it matter?" Valentine turned and walked back into the room and Clary followed with her arms still locked over her chest. He approached the wardrobe and opened it for her to see. "There are plenty of clothes here for you to get dressed if you like. I meant it when I said you should make yourself at home."

Clary followed him out into the room and stood on the opposite side of the bed as he spoke. "You are not my father, and this is not my home. I will say this for the last time someone will be here to save me soon and they will end you." Clary was pleased at the idea of no longer being naked but couldn't bear to accept anything from him.

For the first time in the entire interaction Valentine was openly staring at Clary's nude form in appreciation before he said. "I thought I made it very clear last night that I have no interest in being your father." As Valentine said this Clary held her arms closer to her chest and prayed that the bed was tall enough to cover the rest.

Valentine crossed the room again to stand in front of her and Clary raised her chin so as to not appear intimidated instead she just felt like a child, small and insignificant, but she didn't let it bleed into her voice as she told him in no uncertain terms,"And I thought I made it very clear last night that I have no interest in your interests."

Valentine raised his hand to run his fingers through her hair before responding, "Does it matter?" he wound a lock around his finger and reached into his back pocket with his free hand and pulling out a stele before continuing, "I came to see if you were in need of an iratze, and as much as I enjoy you Clarissa I have an empire to build." He pressed the stele into her shoulder before she could respond using her hair to hold her in place.

Valentine finished the mark in a series of quick easy strokes. "If you're done with that I would like to get back to plotting my escape, if you don't mind." Clary said.

"I'm afraid I might mind." Jonathan said from the doorway he stepped in before continuing, "I just got you here, I want to take the time to get to know my baby sister better." Up until now Jonathan had been watching from the doorway infuriated with the proprietary way his father was leering at Clary.

"Jonathan what are you doing here I told you to wait until nightfall?" Valentine turned to his son as he entered the room. He was less confused by his arrival and more annoyed that he couldn't follow such simple orders.

"I'm sorry, being on Sebastian's very best behavior was exhausting, and without my sister to keep me...occupied I was getting a bit restless. I figured me killing everyone around me would have drawn more attention than climbing the tower." Jonathan shrugged dismissively as if he didn't just threaten the lives of all her friends.

"Just follow my orders next time, you know how to keep your activities discrete." Valentine turned back to Clary and watched the marks disappear from her body before stepping back to observe both of his children at once. "With the wards already down I'm afraid I'm going to have to move things along more swiftly than intended. Jonathan do you think you can manage to keep an eye on your sister while I begin the preparations."

"Of course Father, I apologize for the inconvenience." With that Valentine made his departure leaving the two siblings alone. Jonathan waited until he heard the front door close before saying to his sister, "I'll wait outside while you get dressed.", then exited the room and closed the door behind himself.

* * *

AN: In related news yeah it's been two weeks but college and finals then holidays, things have finally calmed down enough for me to get some quality keyboard time and from now on I will try to update once every two weeks at least but I make no promises. This is the first time I've ever shared any of my writing and I'll get a little skittish here and there, but I know the pain of abandoned stories believe me (There's a pride and prejudice fic that I've been following for about 3.5 years now that the author will routinely abandon but I still check daily for updates even though there hasn't been one since June 2015). I have no intention of doing that to anyone so the one thing I can guarantee is that I will finish this. Again thank you so much I love you all :)


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, I had half a chapter written but everything was entirely too cheerful and positive so I shredded it and went to the dark side (grabbed some dark chocolate and put on some Florence and the Machine)

I hope this is up to your standards and worth it enjoy 😊

* * *

Clary sat on the bed in her new clothes wondering how long he would wait outside. To the best of her knowledge it had been almost half an hour.

Jonathan sat on the other side of the door playing with the key to the unlocked door, it had been half an hour since she stopped moving but her heart was racing.

She could hear his heartbeat, even and steady, through the door. It was the only sound for miles aside from her own.

He was waiting to be invited in.

She knew it.

He couldn't bring himself to ask.

She couldn't bring herself to offer.

They sat in silence until Clary got up and walked over to the door. "It isn't locked."

"I know." Jonathan stood as he responded, he leaned forward against the door imagining his sister on the other side. Her heartbeat had steadied and he could tell she was more confused than frightened.

"Then why are you out there?" Clary stood on the other side of the door with her hand on the knob debating whether or not to open the door.

"Because you don't trust me." He could very easily break down the door and force himself upon her but even the idea of hurting her like that revolted him. He needed her to love him and she never would if she couldn't even trust him.

"Why should I?" Clary was genuinely perplexed as to what Jonathan's motivation could possibly be at this moment, he seemed too sincere for all that Valentine ranted about his demonic affinity. "You're the one who brought me here." Clary said this more to remind herself as to why she shouldn't trust him.

"You shouldn't, I wouldn't...but I'm all you have right now." Clary opened the door a crack.

"My friends will come for me."

"Can I keep you company until then, I do want to know you Clary, please let me in." Clary opened the door the rest of the way and stepped back into the room. Jonathan closed the door behind him then followed her.

"What did he do to you?" Jonathan reached for her arm and was disappointed when she pulled away. The action along with his observations was enough of an answer in itself but he needed to hear her say it.

"Nothing that concerns you dear brother." Clary snapped back at Jonathan before folding further in on herself. "Why should you care?" She turned away and sat down on the bed, in part so he wouldn't see how shaken she was by his question, and in part because of how shaken she was.

"Because you're my little sister, and no one is allowed to hurt you." 'Except for me.' Jonathan added to himself before continuing, "How hard is it to believe that I care about you, or that at the very least I want to, you're the only family I have left."

"You have mom" Clary looked up as she said this and watched as Jonathan followed her over to where she sat on the bed but kept his distance. He kneeled perfectly in her line of vision, he treated her as an animal that would either turn and run or lash out in the worst of ways if frightened.

"Jocelyn hasn't been my mother since the day I was born." Jonathan paused unsure as to whether or not he should continue, "I was a newborn baby, just minutes old, and she screamed when I opened my eyes. She screamed and cried and refused to even touch me, the abomination that killed her son."

"That's not true, who told you this?" Clary couldn't believe her mother capable of such cruelty to anyone let alone her own child.

"Valentine, who else could have. Not that it matters I don't care anymore." Jonathan delivered his line so straight faced that he almost believed his own lie.

"Valentine lied my mother would never do that."

"Clary I'm afraid the Jocelyn you know and the one who married Valentine are two completely different people. Besides Valentine doesn't tell lies, especially not when the truth is so much more damming."

"Why haven't you left him? You're strong, and smart, and resourceful you don't have to take his abuse anymore. Why haven't you runaway."

Jonathan didn't know how to answer this question. He knew the actual reason 'Because of you Clarissa. I endured years of torture so that one day I could meet you, save you, and get you to fall in love with me.' He knew that's what he wanted to say and he knew that was the truth, however instead he said, "Because it's the only life I've ever known." Another half-truth but it's for a good reason, he'll tell her everything when she's safe and they have time.

"The unknown isn't always so bad."

"One can hope."

"Are you going to let me out?" The plea obvious in Clary's voice…

"No." Jonathan tried to think of a way to word his next sentence without losing the fragile string of trust that formed between them over the course of their conversation. "I can't protect you out there, I wasn't lying when I said you're all I have left. I can't let anything happen to you."

"You want to protect me yet you left me with that psychopath yesterday. Jonathan please, anything that could happen to me out there is nowhere near as bad as what Valentine did to me last night." She couldn't say the word but she needed him to understand, "I'd rather die than live through that again."

"I'm sorry. I never should have left you alone with him..." Clary wondered if Jonathan actually meant what he said, and for the first time in his life he actually meant the apology, just not for any socially accepted reason. Jonathan reached up to grab his soared hand carefully before continuing. "Valentine's plan is unstoppable he's going to win, and I can't let you get hurt trying to stop him. But when all of this is over we'll make him pay for hurting you, and then I'll take you far away from this place where no one can hurt either of us ever again."

Clary gripped both of her hands around the one he placed in hers, she believed him though she still didn't trust him, not that it mattered right now her brother was all she had and she needed to cry. So she did. Clary held her brother's hand and gave in to the tears.

Though Jonathan was beyond infuriated with his father for taking Clary's virginity, he couldn't bring himself to dismiss the clear benefits it had on his plans that he wasn't the one to do it. The act broke her so nicely that she's willing to take any scrap of kindness, and he currently has her in the palm of his hand.

He waited for her to tire herself out and fall asleep, when she did he removed the stele from his belt and drew the knockout rune on her arm just to make sure she stayed put he couldn't risk her getting out and finding Angel boy, but he also couldn't tie her up workout losing the small bit of progress he's made.

Jonathan exited the room locking it with a rune for good measure, he was uncomfortable with the idea of leaving her so helpless, but he has a part to play as the dutiful son and he can't let himself get distracted by sentiment. He walked outside to where he had tied up the dead boy's horse and mounted the creature before setting off down the valley to the cave where his father was waiting.

Valentine was going over the binding runes for the summoning ritual he couldn't afford to mess up a single line or it would surely mean his death. Despite Jonathan disabling the wards early everything seemed to be going according to plan the Clave will fall by sundown and this world will be his.

When Jonathan strolled into the cave as if he hasn't a care in the world Valentine was too engrossed in his current task to pay him any mind so Jonathan took it upon himself to observe his surroundings, more specifically the leather-bound journal at his father's side with his sister's name on the cover. Jonathan knew about his father's little black books that he used to log his children's progress, he just hadn't realized that Clarissa would have one. Jonathan made a note to check the book later when his father decided to acknowledge his existence.

"I thought I told you to keep an eye on your sister." Valentine said bruskly.

"I can assure you she's safely out of the way. I couldn't very well miss out on our moment of triumph just to babysit, that just doesn't seem fair." Jonathan new he was playing towards his father's ego but he didn't particularly care at the moment he just wanted his father gone so he could find out his plans for Clarissa.

"Of course not son, you've been by my side for years it's only right that you be here with me now. I however need you hear to release the army at midnight while I summon the angel."

Jonathan knew when he was being lied to, but over the years he stopped caring. Right now, particularly his father's absentee style patenting was playing to his advantage. "Anything you need father."

"Very well then, I'll be taking the mortal sword with me but the Morgenstern sword has a sufficient demonic alliance to complete your task." With that said Valentine gathered his papers and left for the lake unknowingly leaving his two sons alone for the first time ever.

Jonathan in no particular rush walked over to where his father had been standing and picked up Clarissa's log book. Jonathan idly studied the book in his hands before opening it to the first page.

" _Jocelyn becomes more withdrawn from the world every day, I fear I may have lost her for good. I recall from my earlier experiments the euphoric effects the Angel blood had on one's disposition, and I've decided to use it to attempt to get my wife back from this depression she's fallen into…"_ Jonathan couldn't understand why a journal supposedly about his sister began with his mother, he skipped a few pages ahead to see if there was any mention of Clarissa. " _Jocelyn grows stronger and more vibrant by the day, she has even begun to take an interest in Jonathan as a mother should, I still sense some apprehension towards myself but I will keep up with the trial and continue to make observations."_

 _"Jocelyn is pregnant, she hasn't told me yet but the signs are all there, I wonder if I should stop giving her the angel blood supplements."_

 _"I decided to continue with the supplements, in addition to Jocelyn's improved disposition Jonathan seems to be happier and more productive with the increased affection. Also, I don't know how Herondale's tainted blood may affect that trial, this child can act as a control and a balance for Jonathan in his training."_

 _"Jocelyn seems to be developing increased control over the runes of the grey book, this may give me a hint as to what to expect from this second child."_

 _"Jocelyn left…"_

 _"I will find them both."_

 _"I have a daughter. Jocelyn seems to have decided to name her Clarissa, an insult to her heritage. She's somewhere in New York there's powerful anti-tracking magic surrounding her but the same guards do not restrict Clarissa's mind. Though she is consciously unaware of the shadow world, that much is very clear, she seems to be drawn to areas with large amounts of supernatural activity. I have two of my men following her by this time next week I shall have my family by my side."_

 _"Clarissa is stronger than I ever could have hoped, she reads Enochian as if it were her native language, and her command of the runes is comparable to that of the angels themselves it's simply remarkable. I'm astonished with how quickly she's progressing, just last week she had no idea what she really was but she's managed to conquer most tasks set to her. If I'd had the chance to train her myself, she would have been perfect…"_

 _"I've begun to ponder what may have been the catalyst for Clarissa's increased ability as that she and Jace share very few commonalities in their angelic skill set. Jace's strengths seem to be all physical and blunt, whereas Clarissa's are more precise and focus more in thought, maybe it's their upbringing and her lack of training. I need more time with her, she's not like the others and I must know why."_

 _"Clarissa looked like and angel when she held the mortal sword, if only for the moment. It's partial demonic alliance all but burned her skin where she touched it her reaction was infinitely more severe than Jace's though she received less of Ithuriel's blood. There are so many things about her that I can't explain, she seems to be a gift from the gods at times if only she would understand she's on the wrong side right now. Jocelyn twisted her mind and kept her away from me for entirely too long, Clarissa needs to understand she belongs to me."_

 _"She created a portal. Her power doesn't seem to have a limit, the forsaken I sent to retrieve her failed but I couldn't be more pleased with the outcome. Soon she will be back where she belongs at my side but for now I have Jonathan observing her. His interest in his sister is puzzling at times but nothing I can't manage."_

 _"It was remarkable seeing her in a controlled environment for the first time. I didn't quite understand what she was until I had her before me, she's mesmerizing, my little Angel._ _She's everything I could have hoped for either of the others, she just lacks training. She's the key to the next stage in Nephilim evolution."_

The entries stopped there, not that any of it was new information to Jonathan. He didn't quite understand the level of obsession his father had over Clarissa until now and that knowledge only confirmed what he was already thinking.

He needed to get her out now.

How he was going to go about doing it he still didn't know, but their father would learn the hard way Clarissa belongs with no one aside from him. As Jonathan completed his thought he picked up the Morgenstern sword and unleashed hell.

* * *

Jace remembers once telling Clary that he'd never seen an angel. In this current moment he was glad for that and wished that it were still true.

Valentine appeared before the Clave in the center of the guard with the angel at his back and a demon horde on the horizon.

His speech was brief

His words were simple.

"Surrender or be forsaken."

For the rest of his life Jace will remember the sound of the first sword falling to the ground. The shadowhunters are a dying breed and in the face of their creator they bowed down to a mad man.

Valentine won.

* * *

Author's Note: Just another apology for the delay. Thank you all for the continued support and this time I'm not going to make promises I can't keep.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Hey Hey so I just thought that I'd make a note since I've been getting a few comments in Valentine's favour... HE'S THE BAD GUY! I have no sympathy for this particular devil. I understand your desire for an expansion into his character and while I can assure you he will get a bit more page time, he's a brilliant strategist I can't just say "...and he died" (like the battle, or lack there of. I'm horrible at writing action scenes not enough dialogue it always turns out like a bad attempt at copying the princess bride, so in this case I didn't try) Keeping that in mind he'll be around as long as necessary for Jonathan to plan his death and not a sentence longer.

While he's still here though it brings us to current matters at hand, if you haven't already, please take a look at the tags and warnings for the work this chapter contains graphic scenes of rape if you're not comfortable with this GTFO.

* * *

Valentine remarked on his success in his ancestral home the night of his triumph.

The transition of power was to happen tomorrow morning after he summoned the angel everything went according to plan the Clave bent the knee and Valentine is now in total control of everything...except for his children.

Clarissa was locked in her room as before, though after being knocked out and waking up in a strange place again she's decided to throw everything that isn't nailed down at the door.

Jace had been very vocal and insisted he be taken to the dungeons with the Lightwoods but was now locked in his room.

Jonathan was insistent upon his need to stay with his sister going so far as refusing a direct order so he could sit outside her door like some love drunk fool...

Valentine did not know how to handle teenagers. Valentine did not want to know how to handle teenagers. What worked for Jonathan never worked for Jace when they were growing up, and what used to work for Jonathan isn't working now. Valentine was severely out of his depth at the moment, but he needed to get his children in line by morning.

He sat in his study contemplating various avenues to pursue when he heard the sounds of smashing finally stop. 'Maybe she's finally tired herself out...' Valentine thought as he got up from his desk to investigate this change in circumstances. He turned the corner to the hallway that now housed all three of his children Jace's door was still firmly shut, but Jonathan was nowhere to be seen.

It didn't strike im as abnormal Jonathan has been known to grow bored with things easily and disappear for long stretches of time. Valentine decided to leave his sons to their own devices for the evening and check on his most promising progeny. He placed his key in the lock of Clary's door and opened it.

He immediately proceeded to drop to his knees in a roll as a hairbrush flew over his head and imbedded itself into the wall exactly where his head had been moments ago...

"Oops" Clarissa to her credit wanted nothing more than to launch herself at Valentine, claw his heart out, then run for her life. However she knew he was twice her size and had a lifetime of experience to back it up, so she waited.

"Your aim could use some work. That could have been the most unfortunate accident." Valentine said smugly as he rose to his feet. Though honestly he'd been too close to serious injury for his own comfort, if his reflexes had been half a second slower he'd have lost an eye at best. He closed and locked the door behind him, and placed a silencing rune on it for good measure before moving further into the room.

Clary scoffed at the statement. "Unfortunate for you maybe," she said, "and I don't think accident is the word I'd use."

"Sooner or later Clarissa you're going to have to accept your new life at my side." Valentine steeped towards her and ran his hand along her upper arm.

"How about never." Clary jerked back in disgust, trying to put distance between herself and Valentine. He followed her retreat until she was backed up against a wall.

"How about now" Valentine's hand returned to the exposed skin of her arm and Clary's breathing picked up. Valentine could see the fear in her eyes and her flushed complexion was turning him on.

He was going to rape her again.

They both knew it.

"No" Clary's voice came out as a whisper you could barely hear it over the deafening silence of the room. She wanted to scream, and beg, and run away anything to avoid what was about to happen.

Anything to avoid feeling that helpless again.

"You are only making this harder on yourself." Valentine bent his head down down tracing a path up the column of her neck with his mouth before continuing, "Just give in to me and I'll take you to Heaven sweet Angel.

'More like drag me to hell' Clary couldn't understand Valentine, at the moment she didn't really want to, she just wanted him to get guys hands off of her. "I have no intention of going anywhere with you, you disgust me."

"No need to be so rude Clarissa we can either do this like civilized people, or I can tie you down again and fuck you until you lose your voice from screaming my name. The choice is yours, though I'd choose soon you may not like what I decide." Trapped against a wall in a cage made by his body Clary looked much smaller than she really was He could see her chest shake with her choked sobs.

"Please don't do this to me..." she looked up at the man holding her captive poised to violate her once again. Tears delicately slid off her eyelashes and down her cheeks. "Why?" She pleaded in a wavering voice.

Valentine looked down upon the Angel before him and was momentarily stunned by the innocence of her appearance. He reached up to brush the tears off her cheeks in what he hoped to be a comforting gesture, and she flinched away from him. Undeterred he continued the motion and turned her face back to his before addressing her, "Because sweet angel you were made for me, everything about you has been carefully constructed to serve a higher purpose that neither of us can deny. My blood flows through your veins as does that of the angels more so than any other being living or dead can ever claim. You're one of a kind but your children will be just as powerful as you, our children will be the strongest warriors this world has ever seen."

The tears dried in Clary's eyes as she realized how completely insane her father was and what he meant to do with her. "I will not become this, I will fight you every second of everyday, and I most certainly have no intention of having your children. I ask you one last time please let me go, I'll run back to my family and never bother you again." Clary pleaded with the mad man that currently had her ensnared hoping for a bit of humanity, she found none, and Valentine had the audacity to laugh.

He bent forward once more to whisper in her ear "Your mother and friends are rotting in my dungeon. I'm all you have left." Clary felt faint, as her body went slack the older man's arms came up around her and he carried her over to the bed while she remained unresponsive. That changed instantly at the feel of the mattress against her back and her captor atop her once more. Clary began to scream and struggle beneath Valentine once again, trying to pull away from him. He gripped her wrists together and placed them above her head with one hand easily restraining her, and with the other hand he began to unbuckle his belt.

Valentine flipped her over to control her struggling by sitting on the backs of her thighs and he began to strip her upper half. He torr the flimsy shit off her body then slid his hands down the exposed front of her body keeping contact all the while till he reached he jeans. He wasted no time unbuttoning them and dragging them down her legs leaving her in her underwear, a delicate emerald green matching lingerie set from the wardrobe he purchased for her.

Clary screamed into the pillows begging for release as Valentine admired her body he ran his hands up her back recapturing her wrists with his left and unhooking her bra with his right.

After removing her bra he dragged her arms down behind her back and used his right hand to secure her wrists together with his discarded belt

Once she was secure Valentine sat back to admire his handy work and Clary scrambled away from him further up the bed until her back hit the headboard. Valentine leered at her exposed breasts as her panicked breathing caused them to shake much to his delight. Clary pulled her knees up to her chest trying to preserve what little modesty she imagined she had but in doing so only treated her father to an uninhibited view of her glistening cunt.

She was cornered, naked, and out of options. To put it plainly, Clarissa was entirely at her father's mercy and he didn't even know the meaning of the word.

The tears came unbidden. Sliding down her face one by one until she was silently sobbing, shamed by her weakness but knowing there's nothing she could do. All the while her father watched, her his little Angel. Low as she may appear now however Valentine knew she was far from broken.

He crept forward on the bed till he was kneeling between her legs, he brushed her tears aside with his thumb once more and whispered in her ear, "Hush now Clarissa. I have no intention of hurting you tonight. I just need to relax for me, can you do that Angel?"

Clary gave no verbal response, only visibly tensing and drawing further into herself. It was no matter to Valentine however as he simply continued on as if given the keys to the city. He placed his mouth upon hers and ran his tongue along her lower lip coaxing her mouth open with gentle tugs.

The first time he raped her Clary was fire and resistance hurting herself more in the process of avoiding him than he was. Now as her father was preparing to violate her once again she was iced over and tense, she drew further into her mind distancing herself from the body that betrayed her last time. She didn't realize her mistake until Valentine grew bored of her unresponsive mouth and traced his tongue down to the sweet spot on her neck. As he suckled the sensitive skin a soft moan escaped from her parted lips.

Taking only a moment to reval in his victory he continued on sucking, kissing, and biting every patch of nerves on her body. The moans he pulled from her increased in volume peaking when he reached her clit and unceremoniously pinched it drawing a euphoric scream from the girl beneath him.

Clary couldn't tell what was worse, what her father was doing to her, or the fact that she was enjoying it. She looked down at Valentine as he settled between her legs a thin sheen of perspiration on both of them he caught her eyes before she could look away and ran the flat of his tongue along her slit keeping eye contact until his actions forced her to look away.

Valentine set in on devouring Clary's pussy, only so satisfied with a few glancing licks under her heated gaze he placed both hands on her thighs widening his access before spreading her lower lips open with his right hand and shoving his tongue inside of her.

Clary gasped at the intrusion her lower muscles fluttering against his tongue as he lapped at her with no apparent desire to stop.

He skillfully ate her out for ten minutes or so before her was no longer content with her lack of verbal enthusiasm. Valentine reached one hand up to play with her breasts and the other down to rub along her slit before plunging two fingers into her wet heat up to the knuckles. Clary released a deep satisfied groan before clamping her teeth down on her lip smothering the sound, though it was too late.

She felt his grin against her cunt as his fingers began to move in time with his wicked tongue, and that is how they continued. Valentine scissored his fingers savoring the way her pussy clenched in response as he continued to explore his prize until he brushed a specific bundle of nerves causing Clary to jerk up straight against the headboard. Unable to pull away, but unwilling to give in she sat there tension and ecstasy visible in every hard line and subtle shake of her body.

Valentine set in with renewed enthusiasm at the bundle of nerves on the roof of her cunt that produced such a reaction. He furiously pressed in a come hither motion while sucking on her clit refusing to ease up as he dragged her higher and higher. The feeling built a desperate ache inside her until she screamed and orgasmed on her father's face.

The foreign feeling rushed through her body and Valentine never let up on his attentions once, milking her orgasm for all it's worth then dragging her back to the edge the second her thighs stopped trembling.

"No. Not again, please." Clary voiced a protest her voice gravely from overuse.

Valentine bit down lightly on her clit, causing the sweetest moan to slip from her lips as he momentarily relinquished his prize. "Why would I let you go now? Especially after how much we both clearly enjoyed that. No, instead my sweet little Angel I'm going to need you to relax because you belong to me now " With that he dove back into her pussy with renewed fever and Clary was helpless to resist.

After what felt like hours Clary lay on her back moaning like a wanton whore as her father laid between her legs lapping at the results of her sixth orgasm of the night. Tears streaked down her face Clary tried to process her situation, she hated Valentine for violating her again but she hated herself more for the way her body responded.

Valentine was far from done as he lazily fingered Clary's pussy. He was in heaven with his angel beside him and he could only think of one thing that could make this better. He pulled his fingers out of her drenched cunt with substantial effort, the tight warm muscles practically moulded to his fingers sucking the digits deeper inside with every subtle tremor of Clary's body.

Clary was sure she was in Hell as Valentine rolled on top of her. She wished it hurt. She wished he'd be brutal and cruel in the way he manipulated her body. She hated that it felt good. Hated that he could just curl his fingers and make her fall apart beneath him.

Clary felt weak, and dirty, and used, but Valentine still wasn't done with her.

With her hands bound behind her back, and her legs limp and spread from his earlier attentions he encountered no resistance when he lifted her hips and placed the top of his cock at her entrance.

He sank into her with shallow thrusts, inch by inch until he was balls deep in her sopping cunt once more. Clary clenched around the invasion of his massive cock, trying top hold her body together while she felt like she was being torn apart.

Valentine had a look of deep intensity as he slowly fucked Clarissa. Drawing himself out to the tip before grinding his cock back inside of her so she felt every inch of his throbbing shaft before she was once again impaled upon it. He wanted to make this last as long as possible, his desires for Clarissa's body now give far beyond his initial experimental curiosity. Now his victory meant nothing if he didn't drag this celestial creature down to the depths of his own depravity and get her to stay willingly by his side.

He wanted her heart, and the only way he knew how to get it was to take her body.

He wanted to make her crave his touch as much as he craved hers.

He wanted her to be proud to bear his children.

At the thought of Clarissa pregnant with his child his pace picked up causing her to let out a gasping sobb. Though he loved every little sound he drew from her responsive body, none of them were enough, he wanted her to scream his name.

He set her hips down and lay atop her, his mouth immediately latched onto her neck and began suckling at the sensitive skin there leaving more marks of his affection.

Valentine slowly made his way to her ear nipping lightly at it before whispering to her, "Say my name."

"Burn in he- Agh!-" Clary's reply was interrupted by a sharp thrust of her father's hips and a resulting shock of pleasure running through her body.

"Let's try that again little angel. Say. My. Name." He punctuated each word with a precision thrust leaving her a sobbing moaning mess beneath him.

At this point she'd do anything for him to stop and let her go, anything but that, and she voiced the sentiment to her abuser. "Anything else, please just let me go."

"Oh Angel I'm sorry but I'm not going to stop until you say my name." Her cunt started to vibrate around his cock as he attempted to coax his name from her lips. He dug his hands into her ass again but this time instead of using it as leverage to fuck her he rolled over until she was on top and gravity did most of the work for him.

Clary tried to close her legs when Valentine used her bound arms to pull her into sitting position on his cock, but he locked his legs around her's keeping her in place while he used his hands to bounce her up and down on his cock.

She felt the pleasure building quicker in her body as she was violated from a new angle that left her bouncing breasts on display as well as made it look like she was the one to initiate the coupling, two things her father was very much enjoying.

She looked like a fallen angel, utterly debauched as her ringlets of heavenly fire and gold dusted breasts bounced in time to his thrusts. He watched where they were joined his cock slick with the results of the half dozen orgasms he gave her earlier. The sight alone caused his balls to tighten with the urge to cum inside her now and watch their mingled juices drip down her thighs and soak the sheets. His cock practically vibrated with the effort to hold back, but he had a goal to accomplish. "Say my name." He said again as Clary practically doubled over trying to absorb the pleasure consuming her body.

"Please don't make me. I don't want any of this. Please just-ah oh agh!- Please just make it stop!" Clarys speech was interrupted as her body was wracked with tremors, trying to hold off her impending orgasm to avoid the humiliation of coming apart on her father's cock, as well as the fact she didn't know if her body could take another after his vigorous use of her cunt earlier.

"Say my name and it will all be over I promise."

Clary couldn't think, she just wanted it to stop but everytime she spoke up to protest or beg for him to stop he'd quicken his pace and her protests would turn into crys of euphoria. "...v...vale...Valentine..." Clary managed to stutter out in a whisper after one frighteningly close trip to the edge.

"I'm sorry Angel could you repeat that I didn't quite catch what you said."

"...valentine..." He picked up his pave displeased with her half assed attempts bringing her closer and closer to the orgasm she's been denying herself.

He sees her teeth bite into her lip as she struggles to form the word and pairs his furious thrusts with two fingers massaging her clit and she detonates around him causing her to scream his name as if it was the only word she knew.

"Valentine!" He voice sounds foreign to her ears as they flush red in shame and the most powerful orgasm of her life works its way through her body. She unknowingly grinds herself onto Valentine's cock her inner walls milking and massaging until he finds his own orgasm buried balls deep in her and he fills her with his tremendous load.

Clary shudders and gasps as she feels herself being filled with Valentine's cum through her orgasm. He groans as he releases the contents of his balls inside of her tight little cunt and watches how some of it tries to spill out around his dick. He flips them over and lifts her hips again, the angle keeping most of his seed inside of her.

He lazily thrusts his softening member into her, both lightly shivering with aftershocks. When he finally pulls out his dick it falls flaccid between his thighs and is covered with the evidence of their tryst, which is now gently leaking out of Clary's abused pussy and coating her thighs.

Clary moans lightly at the loss of his cock the emptiness at her core now unfamiliar, and Valentine his half tempted to fuck her all over again. Instead he gives her a gentle kiss before drawing away from her body and walking over to her dresser, he quickly grabs what he needs and returns to his debauched fallen angel.

Valentine winds each of the silk scarves around his hands before using them to tie Clarissa's legs spread apart and elevated attached to the bed post with just enough slack to be comfortable.

He took the third item in his hand and made his way between her obscenely spread legs. Clary murmured in slight protest, barely conscious, and definitely not coherent, as Valentine ran a finger up her slit before sticking a but plug in her cunt stopping anymore of his cum from seeping out.

What an image she made, plugged and trussed up, covered in sweat and seamen. "This is how you will sleep every night until you conceive, and maybe a few nights after you start to show, after all this is what you were made for. You exist to serve my cock and bear my children, and the only person you have to blame for your situation is your mother for taking you away from me and keeping you in the dark." Valentine crawled into bed beside her, laying his head on her breasts and resolving to deal with his sons in the morning Valentine fell asleep as tears slid down Clarissa's cheeks.

* * *

Jonathan didn't trust his father to say the least he needed to protect his sister from the manic, or else watch her shatter into a million pieces unsure as to whether or not he could put her back together again.

He left his guard at her door for a moment.

A single minute between crashing objects, and the devil slipped in right under his nose.

pHe almost wished to be a mundane when he smelled her fear, and beneath a twinge of spiteful arousal.

Jonathan threw himself at the door trying to get it open to no avail. It was rune locked from the inside, and the only person powerful enough to open it was most likely tied up.

He couldn't hear what his father was in there torturing his sister with but he knew nonetheless. Something he apparently had in common with Angel boy as he began banning on his door after Clary's third orgasm.

It was hell sitting there unable to do anything but it was hell enough for Jonathan to decide...

Valentine dies. Soon.

* * *

Author's Note: So yeah that happened...that last part felt pretty weak but I needed a Jon reaction and you've all waited long enough. I've got nothing more to say on the matter. Love you all lots and note for future reference comments make my day as well as make me write faster even if they are about Valenslime. 😘


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Just a reminder I'm not Cassandra Clare if I was I'd probably have better things to do with my time than write smut...OK I do have other things to do but this is more fun.

A/N: This is a lot later than I intended but half of it got deleted and I had to rewrite it. Anywhore...on with the story.

* * *

Hatred was an emotion Jonathan Morgenstern was very familiar with, one could say if was the only emotion he was familiar with. The first time he felt it he'd been a child no more than five years old and he asked his father where he went for those long periods of time that he left Jon alone.

An innocent question in and of itself. Valentine then proceeded to tell him

"I go home to my real son, not that you have the right to know." Up until this point Valentine had been fairly indulgent in Jonathan's desire to pretend to be a regular boy and the transition was much like the rest of his childhood brutal and depressing.

Jonathan thought on this as he stood outside of Angel boy's door, how his father cast him aside in favor of a child that he had no reason to care for. Jonathan hated Jace.

Hated how he received all the love and attention due to a child that was rightfully his growing up, and yet still wanted more, yet still had to take more. Clarissa had been a glimmer of hope in the abyss that was his childhood. Hope that one day he would get out from beneath his father's thumb and find her, so that he could finally have someone that loved him.

Now they were both trapped by their father, and Jonathan only had one idea how to get her out, so he unlocked the other Jonathan's door and waltzed in as if he hadn't a care in the world.

Jace was sitting cross legged on his bed as if in meditation so Jonathan leaned against the door lazily blocking the exit before saying what he came to say.

"Baby brother I have a proposition for you."

* * *

Valentine woke to his arms wrapped around his daughter. She was fidgeting against her bindings with a disgruntled look on her face, for which he was probably the cause.

The knowledge upset him more than he thought it would. One thing Valentine has now learned about his daughter is that he's always surprised around her. He hated that that was just about all he knew about her, and he hated Jocelyn even more for making it that way.

Of all the things she took when she left this is what hurt him the most. She kidnapped his daughter and raised her to think she was a mundane. Raised her to not know him, so that even if they passed each other in the street there wouldn't have even been a second glance between them.

She stole his legacy and turned his daughter into a stranger.

How she would have blossomed in his care strong, brilliant, brave, and beautiful.

She still was all of those things despite her mother's best effort. He supposed Jocelyn did him a favor keeping her away from him even giving her a different name. His daughter was Seraphina the girl who should have been, but Clarissa, the woman in his arms was a stranger. He should be grateful to Jocelyn for giving him the ability to see past such trivial things as accidents of birth, to see the angel gifted to him.

A particularly violent jerk from Clarissa roused Valentine from his musing. He deigned to take pity on the restrained woman and untie her wrists, as he reached across her his morning erection pressed against the smooth skin of her stomach and pulled a groan from the older man.

He made quick work of her bindings and watched as she immediately curled in on herself unknowingly rubbing her body along his morning wood as she tried to resettle. Not quite able to get comfortable because of the bindings that remained on her ankles she continued to shift around unaware of the effect she was having on him.

He crawled atop her once more to remove the last of the bindings, as he did so he set either leg on either side of him keeping her just barely spread open, and putting his now fully hard erection in a rather fortunate position.

Valentine was currently at an impasse. He very much wanted to fuck Clarissa again, but he also needed to attend to his plans and see that the two Jonathans knew their place in it.

The decision was made for him when he noticed a slight shift in her breathing, she'd be waking up soon enough and he couldn't be here when she did. With that decided he made his way off the bed and gathered his things almost forgetting his stele until he spotted it on the floor.

After a sentimental look back at her sleeping form he admitted that she really bore little resemblance to her mother upon close inspection. Jocelyn was harder, closed off even, and she had a darker edge to her looks. Clarissa on the other hand was fire and light given physical form, and he loved her for it, but he needed to teach her how to control herself or it will be her downfall.

He went back to his chambers and stripped once more stepping into the shower with the image of Clarissa, bound and bare, still fresh in his mind.

He brought his hand to his cock and began to stroke it imagining Clarissa's artfully talented fingers wrapped around his shaft. Gripping it tighter he imagined guiding her hand, teaching her how to please him.

Valentine imagined her kneeling down in front of him such a small thing already that she had to tilt her head up to lick his cock from the base to the head. He thought about the way her lips would look like wrapped around his shaft taking his cock into her mouth inch by inch with her eyes locked on his.

He groaned bowing his head forward and closing his eyes getting lost in the fantasy.

Soon enough he would get her to fall in line with the rest and then he'll be done with pitiful imaginings. He'd have his little angel on her knees so desperate to please him that she'd let him fuck her mouth while she fingered her perfect little cunt.

With a loud groan he came in his first the image of Clarissa sucking him off while touching herself still fresh in his mind. Soon enough he'll have her.

* * *

Jonathan stood outside his sister's door once more. It was now unlocked but he didn't know how to approach the situation.

He failed her.

Again.

He said he'd protect her from exactly what their father had just finished doing, and he didn't.

His blood boiled at the thought of his Father's sick obsession with Clarissa. He didn't love her, he lusted after her power and her body. Valentine wanted to use her, Jonathan just wanted her to love him.

Jonathan knocked tentatively on the door and waited for a response.

"Jonathan?" His sister's soft voice from the other side of the door was disorienting, there was a new quality laced in it that he couldn't quite place his finger on. He hoped it wasn't defeat as he pressed forward moving into the room through the unlocked door.

Clarissa watched from the bed as her brother entered the room and closed the door behind him all while failing to look at her. She was still naked and filthy covered in the evidence of their father's attentions from the night before.

They waited in silence for a small eternity, her waiting for him to speak, him waiting to find the right words to say. Clarissa Gabe up on waiting for her brother and cut through the silence with a question sharp as a dagger. "Did you know why he wanted me?"

The question has been on her mind longer than she'd care to admit.

"I suspected but no. I didn't know the extent of his intentions." Not until it was too late. I never wanted this for either of us. Jonathan wished he had the strength to complete his thought out loud. To tell her how sorry he was, but he didn't so he kept his eyes on the floor and waited for his angel to pass judgement upon him.

"Why don't I believe you."

"Because you don't trust me." It wasn't really a question but he answered anyway, desperate to prolong any interaction with his sister.

"And do you trust me Jonathan."

"Yes." Something about the way she said his name had him responding automatically and honestly. He trusts her more than anyone else in this world, and it terrifies him. He looked up finally, curious as to how she would process this information.

Clarissa was very non reactive to her brothers revelation, to her it didn't really matter if he meant it or not, so long as he did what she asked of him. "I need you to do something for me Jonathan."

"Anything."

"I need a stele." She trained her eyes on his and saw the panic flash across his face for a moment before his walls came back up.

"I can't do that." He responded simply leaving so much unsaid.

"Can't or won't?" They both knew her was very capable of reaching into his pocket and handing her the stele he always carried with him. He was making a choice and she wanted him to recognize that.

"If I give you a stele you'll be gone by nightfall."

"Would that be such a bad thing? You could come with us."

"No I couldn't, and neither could Jace, or your mother. He has tracking runes on us. You might be gone by nightfall but he'll drag us back by morning." He was playing a risk telling her this, that she could just leave without them. Hopefully she's not as selfish as her mother. He stepped forward not stopping till he was just in front of the bed where she was sitting. "I just need a little more time."

He approached her like a scared animal, reaching his hand up but not quite touching her. "I can't Jonathan I can't go on like this..." He could almost see a tear in her eye as her voice drifted off. She has every right to feel this way he knows that, and he doesn't want that bastard laying another finger on her anymore than she does, but unfortunately they could only come up with one plan to end Valentine and it requires compliance...from all of them.

"I'm sorry Angel," Clary jerked back as if he'd hit her.

"Don't call me that! He always says that...right before, he says it helps him forget I'm his daughter." Jonathan was going to kill him.

"I'm sorry Clarissa. I shouldn't have said that. Jace and I have a plan to get us all out of here. We just need to wait for Valentine to let his guard down. Can you do that for just a little while longer?"

"I want to kill him." The harsh words and cool tone was completely in contrast to her previous demeanor, and Jonathan was momentarily taken aback, though he recovered quickly reaching forward to grab her hand.

"I promise Clarissa when this is all over you can be the one to end him, in whatever manner you choose." An understanding passed between the two siblings as they sealed their father's fate, and in that moment neither Heaven nor Hell could stand in their way.

* * *

Meanwhile Valentine entered the room his adoptive son was currently residing in. He had business to take care of that didn't involve rolling around naked with the heavenly creature across the hall.

Jace was sitting on his bed and the picture of complete self control.

"Aren't you even going to try and fight me? Clarissa threw a very well targeted hair brush." His speech was almost mocking. Valentine was clearly trying to get a reaction out of Jace, but to the blonde's credit, despite his personal reputation he was not as rash and headstrong as everyone believed him to be.

"Yet here you are, it clearly didn't do her much good. So if you don't mind I'll save my energy for a time when I have the upper hand."

"I raised you well."

"Why did you do that?" Jace asked momentarily distracted from finding the point of Valentine being here.

"Do what?" Valentine pretended to be obtuse, knowing exactly what Jace was referring to.

"Why did you raise me?"

"Because your parents were dead and I'd already invested a lot of time into you."

"Who were they?" He said before amending for clarification, "My parents... Who were my parents?"

"My second in command Stephen Herondale and his second wife. Your father died in a battle and your mother killed herself soon after. I cut you out of her dead body." Valentine watched Jace for a reaction, but he didn't know whether to be proud or upset by his lack of one.

"Why are you here?"

"I just want my son back."

"I was never your son." Valentine seems to have gone into this thinking he'd be able to wave his hand and everything could go back to the way it was. Jace just wanted to know hours endgame, and luckily for him he won't have to wait long to hear it.

"We could change that. Legally at least."

"I don't know what you're talking about, but it can't be adoption since I'm legally an adult in the eyes of the Clave."

"No Jonathan I'm not talking about adoption. I'm talking about matrimony. You and Clarissa are going to get married."

"What if I say no" Jace was at a loss for words, but he couldn't let that show. He needed to figure out what Valentine stood to gain from this match.

"Then I'll marry her off to someone who'll say yes. I chose you because you love her. I could very easily pick someone more...compliant."

"And what if she says no?" Jace was stalling, still confused by the whole situation.

"She has her own set of incentives." Namely her family and friends locked in my dungeon.

"Do either of us really have a choice in the matter?" The question was rhetorical but Valentine answered anyway leaving no room for further argument.

"No."

"What do you stand top gain from this?" It was the last question Jace could think of, but it was undoubtedly the most pertinent one. What is Valentine getting out of this, because whatever it may be it means this can't be good.

"I'm getting too be an old man, is it really so bad to want grand children?" Or in reality a cover for the children he and Clarissa will have.

"It seems every decision has already been made for me." Jace was again at a loss for words, but maybe they could work with this..."When's the wedding?"

"A week from today."

* * *

A/N:So again sorry about the delay but it was midterms, I had 4 papers to write, and I'm bombing my intro to psychology course. Bottom line don't believe the lies they tell you that college is fun, and I'm dropping the psychology course. Hopefully that will give me more time to write. Anyway love you all and you can expect another chapter soon because SPRING BREAK MOTHER FUCKERS!


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry guys I tried to get this out before my break was officially over because you guys are awesome and deserve it, but this felt like something I needed to take my time with.

Disclaimer: This chapter contains inserts from _City of Glass_ if it's in italics I didn't write it. And therefore have no intellectual claim over it. That belongs entirely to Cassandra Clare.

* * *

Jonathan was in the training room alone slicing away at a training dummy when Valentine came to get him.

"I thought I might find you here." When Jonathan was younger he always wondered how his father managed to find him so quickly, no matter how far he ran, then he found the journals and realized how his father tagged all of the circle members and it wasn't to hard to connect the dots. He stoped trying to run away after that.

"Where else would I be?" Jonathan stabbed his sword into the dummy before turning to face his father.

"In my office in five minutes." Valentine said before turning around and walking out the door.

"Yes sir." Jonathan mumbled under his breath at the now closed door.

It seems like it's finally time for them to tall about his plans moving forward, Jonathan thought. He didn't much like bring out of the loop and he knew the old man had just got back from visiting his more angelic half. Jonathan add always was last in his father's thoughts, at least for now.

He made his way through the sprawling manor remarking at how much nicer it was than the shack where he was raised. Not that it matters, a gilded cage is still a cage. He stopped outside of his father's door and knocked before waiting to be invited in. Once inside he sprawled sideways in the nearest chair, feet hanging off one end torso off the other, silently dared his father to berate him.

Valentine dismissed the flagrant disrespect as a result of the demons savage nature, nor even considering that it could be the actions of his teenage son begging for attention. He leveled his gaze at Jonathan from his own seat across the desk.

Jonathan knew not to speak unless spoken to, so he waited for his father to collect his thoughts whole pretending to clean his nails with a dagger.

"Jonathan, look at me when I'm speaking to you." Jonathan rolled his eyes dramatically before turning around in his chair to face his father.

"I'm sorry father, I wasn't aware that I was being addressed just yet." The sarcasm in his tone was evident, though Valentine elected to ignore it.

"I need you to keep an eye on your sister till Saturday." Valentine's tone was assertive and even, it left no room for confusion or argument. Simply an order that Jonathan was expected to follow. Jonathan how've has a different idea.

"Why only til Saturday?" He inquired hoping to get an angle on his father's plans.

"Because she'll be marring Jace on Saturday and I'd rather she not run away or otherwise injur herself until then." He was giving her away. It's not bad enough that he spends every spare moment defiling her, but now in addition to that he has the audacity to give away the only thing left in this world that he loves and could possibly love him to the entitled angel boy who took everything from him in the first place. Jonathan was furious, and he almost felt betrayed by this, though any bit of trust between the two men had long since shriveled up and died.

"Does she know this." Jonathan said attempting to mask his rage.

"Does it matter. She'll do what I tell her to do, or she'll watch her friends be executed."

"Of course father. Anything else?"

"No you are dismissed." Jonathan got up and walked out of his father's office as calmly as he could manage but the second the door was closed behind him he was sprinting down the hall towards Clarissa's room.

He barged in forgetting to knock and was confronted with the sight of his sister naked in her pure angelic beauty. She almost didn't look real, heavenly fire bound in flesh, she was perfect.

Then he noticed the bruises making her body, as his eyes rested on them Clarissa's arms came up to cover herself. Obsidian met emerald and she finally spoke.

"What do you want Jonathan"

"Our father's heart on a spike." She smirked at that, in another life it could have been a laugh but not now, not after what he put her through.

"Get in line" She turned back to the wardrobe to make a clothing selection. There really wasn't anything to her taste it was all designer and expensive, and she refused to even think about the underwear drawer again.

He walked over to the bed and sat facing away from her for the sake of false modesty, the urgency that initially possessed him soothed by her presence.

"Why are you here?" She asked as she settled on the least pretentious pair of jeans she could find and a white long sleeve thermal shirt. Jonathan choose to ponder her previous state of dress later, his initial sense of urgency returning with her reminder.

"Father wants me to keep an eye on you until the wedding. You're all set to marry Angel boy at the end of this week." Clary visibly paled at the statement. "I don't entirely know his motivation yet..."

"A cover. He wants a cover up for when I get pregnant. I can imagine there are only so many things a genocidal maniac can do before peace isn't worth it, raping and impregnating your daughter is probably high on the list." Her voice wavered towards the end but she got the words out. Jonathan was at a loss for words.

"We won't let it get that far. I have a plan." And her really did. A crazy, stupid, brilliant plan that was likely to get them all killed. Clary however has long since decided she'd rather die than live the rest of her life as her father's prized brood mare.

"What do I have to do?"

"Nothing too difficult you just have to draw a rune."

* * *

After discussing the new plan Jonathan decided to keep to his orders and watch Clarissa, so he figured that plus the unlocked door means she's now free to do some exploring.

He took her on a walk in the gardens and for the moment they were acting like real siblings.

"No fair you cheated!" Clary exclaimed at her brother as she kept trying to hit him in retaliation. They had just finished racing to the gardens and years of shadow hunter training deemed Jonathan the Victor.

"How is it cheating if I'm just better than you?" He said as he easily dogged her attacks, only further proving his point.

"It is because brothers are supposed to let their little sisters win things. That's just how this whole sibling thing works." At the word brother he paused giving her an opening to get one hit in.

"That's the first time you've called me that." He said while she enjoyed her small triumph.

"I suppose it is, would you rather I call you something else?" Clary didn't know how to respond though having never really dealt with a situation like this. Not even with Jace, the word just hadn't felt right.

He really wouldn't, he loves the connection they share. One that no one else in this world can claim, but would she still love him the way he needs her to as her brother? 'Only one way to find out' Jonathan thought before saying, "I like it, though it doesn't seem proper considering how we meet." Namely me shoving my tongue down her throat hours later, but semantics really. They both thought back to that day with mixed emotions

"I don't think anything about our family can be called proper." She walked over to a stone bench and sat down. It was quiet for some time her sitting, contemplating her situation, and Jonathan standing, contemplating his next move.

"Fair assessment sister." He sad as he walked over and sat beside her. The remained quiet for some time after just drawing strength from each other's company until Clarissa broke the silence with another question.

"Why did you do it?" She asked filling in the silence that settled over them.

"Do what? Clarissa you're going to have to be more specific." He knew exactly what she was talking about. He also knew she wasn't ready for the answer. He was giving her an out.

"Why did you kiss me Jonathan?" She didn't take it.

"Do I need a reason?" Jonathan was stalling. She wasn't ready to hear the answer, he was sure she wouldn't understand. Not yet at least. He needed more time.

"Yes." Clarissa unfortunately for him, was nor going to let this go. She needed to know why he kissed her knowing what they really were to each other.

"Why do you want to know?" It seemed he wouldn't be getting his extra time.

"Because you aren't supposed to kiss your sister. It's not right."

"Well then I suppose you have your answer. I kissed you because I'm wrong." As much as he loathed to admit it, it was the truth. He was wrong in the core of his very being for desiring his sister in that way. He hated himself for it, but he wouldn't change it for anything. Loving Clarissa is the only light in his life and he won't be letting go of that anytime soon.

"Why would you say that?"

"Because it's true." Jonathan stretched his hands out in front of him turning his gaze to them, the hands of a monster. "I'm not like other shadowhunters. Father did something to me before I was born."

Clary moved closer to him on the bench and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Whatever Valentine told you, it was a lie. You're just like the rest of us."

Jonathan looked down at the hand on his shoulder, before his eyes traveled up to meet hers. "My sweet sister you don't even know what he did to you. How can you make assumptions about me?"

"Whatever he told you it was a lie. There's nothing wrong with us, we're just like everyone else."

"Wrong on all counts, except one, dear sister. There's nothing wrong with you, you're the most right thing in this world, but you're not like everyone else. You're better, and I'm worse. Father didn't tell me anything he kept journals for all of us. Experiment logs to be more precise, that's all I've ever been to him. An experiment gone wrong."

"I don't believe it." Clary didn't think she'd ever hated Valentine more than she did in this moment. How could someone treat a child like they're less than human until they eventually believed it, she didn't understand how valentine could do that to b his fist born child. More importantly she couldn't believe what could possibly be so bad that Jonathan still thinks that.

"Then I guess I'll have to show you. How do you feel about taking a field trip little sister?" Jonathan got up and reached his hand back down to help Clarissa. She took it hesitantly before responding.

"So long as you answer my questions."

"In due time dear one, but first we need to go get your Angel boy." They walked back into the manor and went directly to Jace's room. Jonathan unlocked the door and barged in, Clary following close behind him.

Jace looked up from his book at the intrusion and visibly faltered when he saw Clary. However it took him only a moment to recover and race across the room to sweep her into his arms.

Or he would have I'd Jonathan hadn't placed himself between them. "If it's not too much to ask I'd rather you not defile my sister in front of me."

Jace all but ignored him. "Clary is that really you?" She stepped out from behind her brother to get a better look at Jace, he seemed fine. Not fine considering the circumstances, just fine. Clary didn't know whether to be relieved or worried.

"Of course it is. You haven't forgotten me already have you?" She meant it to be a joke but clearly no one was in a laughing mood.

Have pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her before he ghosted his lips over her own in something that barely qualified as a kiss but made her weak in the knees never the less. "I'm so sorry Clary. Inever meant for you to get mixed up in any of this." His words reminded her of the last time she'd been kissed and she pulled back to the relative safety of her brothers company.

"It's fine Jace. None of us meant for this to happen." Jace looked up at the way Jonathan wrapped his arms around Clary and doubted the full truth of that statement. For someone who didn't mean for this to happen he didn't seem to upset by the circumstances. Clary continued on ignorant to the pissing contest she was currently in the middle of. "I'm sure we would all like to see this over and done with sooner than later, and right now we need your help with something."

"Anything" Jace responded immediately. He expected Clary to keep talking but was surprised when it was Jonathan that voiced the request.

"We need you to take us to Wayland Manor to retrieve father's experiment logs."

"Why would you need those?" It was Clary who responded this time. Though Jonathan would have loved to rub their 'sibling bonding' moment in Jace's face.

"We're going to fight Valentine and so far he knows more about us than we do about ourselves. I just want to level the playing field a bit. Hodge once told me he experimented on himself in the early stages, maybe there are some lasting side effects that can work to our advantage." She wasn't completely lying. That would be good to know. The two men seemed impressed with her strategy though Jonathan was still trying to look as if he had known the whole time.

"That's not a bad plan. One question though, how are we getting there?" To this both Clary and Jace looked to Jonathan for the answer. "It's not a far walk wecan be there and back by sundown."

Jace seemed satisfied withthis answer but Clary had another idea. "As fun as walking sounds I have a more time efficient option. The only thing I need is a stele. Jonathan looked warily at Clary before he reluctantly pulled a stele out of his pocket and handed it to get.

"I'm trusting you. We have a plan, and I'd rather not take any unnecessary risks." He gave Clary a pointed look before letting go of the stele.

"Relax Jonathan, we'll be there and back before anyone realizes we were gone." Clary turned to the wall behind her and began to draw the portal rune. She stepped back when she finished and turned towards Jace. "You're up."

Jace stepped forward picturing his childhood home then Clary and Jonathan each took a hold of his hands and they all disappeared into the hurricane.

* * *

 _"_ _Somewhere between here and there Clary's hand was torn out of Jace's. When the hurricane spit her out and she hit the floor, she hit it alone, hard, and rolled gasping to a stop._

 _She sat up slowly and looked around. She was lying in the center of a Persian rug thrown over the floor of a large stone-walled room. There were items of furniture here and there; the white sheets thrown over them turned them into humped, unwieldy ghosts. Velvet curtains sagged across huge glass windows; the velvet was gray-white with dust, and motes of dust danced in the moonlight._

 _"Clary?" Jace emerged from behind a massive white-sheeted shape; it might have been a grand piano. "Are you all right?"_

 _"I'm fine." Clary said as she lifted herself off the floor."_

Before Jace could even move in her direction Jonathan was there, seemingly unruffled by their journey, and pulling Clary to her feet. "That was incredible Clary!" Jonathan exclaimed as he pulled his sister close to him. "How long have you been able to do that?"

"Oh, I just kind of think of what I need and a rune comes to me. The portal was a fairly recent discovery." She met Jace's eyes as she finished her statement, recalling the circumstances that brought about her making that rune in the first place.

Jace wanted to tell her why he did it. He wanted to explain to her why he needed to keep her away from the Clave, to keep her safe. He wanted to offer a million excuses and apologies to try and make her understand. He said none of these things, and instead found himself saying _"For whatever it's worth, I was very impressed."_

 _"_ _Thanks." Clary glanced around. "So this is where you grew up? It's like something out of a fairy tale."_

 _"I was thinking a horror movie," Jace said. "God, it's been years since I've seen this place. It didn't use to be so—"_

 _"So cold?" Clary shivered a little. She buttoned her coat, but the cold in the manor was more than physical cold: The place felt cold, as if there had never been warmth or light or laughter inside it._

 _"No," said Jace. "It was always cold. I was going to say dusty." He took a witchlight stone out of his pocket, and it flared to life between his fingers. Its white glow lit his face from beneath, picking out the shadows under his cheekbones, the hollows at his temples. "This is the study, and we need the library. Come on."_

They followed have down the haunted halls minds a drift as they pondered their situation.

Jonathan knew that Valentine preferred his adopted son to him but he didn't write realize how much until he saw the dramatic difference in their living situations. "Was it just the two of you here alone all the time?" He asked.

"Us and the servants. They kept to themselves though for the most part." _Jace responded as he led them down a long corridor lined with dozens of mirrors that gave back their own reflections. Clary hadn't realized quite how disheveled she looked: her skin streaked with dust, her hair snarled from the wind. She tried to smooth it down discreetly and caught Jace's grin in the next mirror. For some reason, due doubtless to a mysterious Shadowhunter magic she didn't have a hope of understanding, his hair looked perfect._ Jonathan caught her fusing and tucked her hair behind her ear, and his hand lingered for half a second longer than proper, she looked up at him as his hand slid down her cheek and blushed because this strange shadowhunter magic applied to Jim as well. There wasn't a hair out of place on his person and Clary suddenly felt the need to look at anything but him, as the familiar sense of being sucked down a black hole overcame her once more.

 _The corridor was lined with doors, some open; through them Clary could glimpse other rooms, as dusty and unused-looking as the study had been. Michael Wayland had had no relatives, Valentine had said, so she supposed no one had inherited this place after his "death"—she had assumed Valentine had carried on living here, but that seemed clearly not to be the case. Everything breathed sorrow and disuse. At Renwick's, Valentine had called this place home, had showed it to Jace in the Portal mirror, a gilt-edged memory of green fields and mellow stone, but that, Clary thought, had been a lie too. It was clear Valentine hadn't really lived here in years—perhaps he had just left it here to rot, or he had come here only occasionally, to walk the dim corridors like a ghost._

 _They reached a door at the end of the hallway and Jace shouldered it open, standing back to let Clary pass into the room before him. She had been picturing the library at the Institute, and this room was not entirely unlike it: the same walls filled with row upon row of books, the same ladders on rolling casters so the high shelves could be reached. The ceiling was flat and beamed, though, not conical, and there was no desk. Green velvet curtains, their folds iced with white dust, hung over windows that alternated panes of green and blue glass. In the moonlight they sparkled like colored frost. Beyond the glass, all was black._

 _"This is the library?" she said to Jace in a whisper, though she wasn't sure why she was whispering. There was something so profoundly still about the big, empty house._

 _He was looking past her, his eyes dark with memory. "I used to sit in that window seat and read whatever my father had assigned me that day. Different languages on different days—French on Saturday, English on Sunday—but I can't remember now what day Latin was, if it was Monday or Tuesday…."_

"It was Monday. The first language for the first day of the week. Tuesday was Greek, then Italian, Russian, and Romanian." Jonathan said as he entered the room. Despite his complexion being all parlor he had a way of blending into the shadows. Before either Jace or Clary could realize he was at the bookshelf that held their target. "I assume since he taught us the same languages, gave us the same name, and the same birthday gifts that there was little variation in our training overall."

"Everything was an experiment to him apparently." The room grew impossibly colder as Jace's words hung heavy in the air the two men contemplating the similarities they bore and Clarissa wondering if there was even a scrap of humanity left in Valentine's heart, and then get eyes settled on a little blue book 'Simple Recipes for Housewives'. She walked over to the shelf and picked it up.

"What have you got there?" Jonathan was on edge the energy of the room just screamed that he doesn't belong here, that he needs to leave. There was almost a tangible sense of light magic in the air that grated against his skin, and for some reason it was coming from the book in Clarissa's hands. Clary didn't respond at first she simply opened the book as if she didn't hear him. Jace was growing concerned as well, neither of them understanding the gravity of the situation until Clary dropped the cookbook shell and held up the book of the white.

"A game changer."

* * *

A/N: Dun Dun Dun...OK 1 I'm sorry this chapter should be much longer but I have no idea how I'm going to write the angel scene and this much has just been chilling on my desk top for a few weeks now so have at it. Also these plot bunnies are going to be the death of me, I swear every time I sit down to write I can think of everything but what I need. Bright side I have a few things coming your way after I finish this. Downside they're sidetracking me from finishing. I'll try to be less incompetent. Laters love


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Hey everyone, long time no see but I promise it's worth it. This is a long one but it contains an excerpt from the canon that makes up a fairly decent chunk so I felt I had to write twice as much as I included, then it was taking really long and I felt bad so I thought I'd add a smutty bit, now it's the longest chapter I've written so far so here you go...

* * *

Jonathan and Clarissa were fighting. The library once silent as the grave was now filed with the raucous sounds of the two siblings having a screaming match while Jace looked on in confusion and fear, not that he'd admit to either, but Clary has just enlightened the two males to her deal with Magnus and Jonathan is convinced she's being cheated.

"I'm not saying your mother doesn't mean that much to you, I'm just saying that the most powerful spellbook in this world for a fancy wake up call doesn't seem like a fair trade!"

"Well that's not your decision to make Jonathan. I already made the deal and I'm sticking to it!"

"By the angel Clarissa would you just listen to reason for once in your life! Think about it what good would being awake really do your mother if we're all still prisoners?" They had been shouting at each other back and forth for some time now and the resulting silence from Jonathan's statement was deafening. "Magnus Bane is a very powerful warlock and having him help us with our plans would definitively increase our chances of survival in addition to success."

"We can't ask him to fight our battle for us, and leveraging something I already promised to him just seems wrong. Magnus trusts me." Jace stepped in and tried to wrap his arm around her but she brushed him off taking a step closer to her brother.

"Right and wrong take a back seat to dead or alive sister, and if we don't stop our father soon that's the choice you'll be making for all of your friends. Is that really how you want this to go?" Her eyes clouded over as she considered his words and Jonathan to brush a hand across her shoulder hopping the human contact would bring her back to reality. It worked to an extent as she came to shaking off the images that came with his words. "I'm not suggesting you break your deal Clarissa. Just that you add to it, 'Wake up my mother **_and_** help me defeat my father.' simple enough."

"You don't understand Jonathan. This is our fight. I can't ask him to risk his life to solve my problems." This time when Jace Reached for her she let him wrap her up in his arms and she buried her face in his chest. She wasn't crying, and she didn't feel the need to, but this whole situation was starting to take its toll on her. Clary was exhausted.

"If Valentine remains in charge, he's going to become this whole world's problem, and someone as smart as the high warlock of Brooklyn will understand that."

"OK. We do it your way, but when the time comes I'll do the talking." Clary sighed and finally drew herself away from Jace's chest before turning to face her brother once more.

"Great. Now let's get what we came here for and get the fuck out, this place is starting to give me the creeps."

"Agreed." Jace said as he made his way over to the shelf filed with black leather bound journals. He went to reach for one before stoping himself with his hand hovering just inches away from one of them. "I was never allowed to even look at this shelf growing up," he paused seeming to be deliberating, "I don't think I can do this." He dropped his hand and head before stepping back in shame suddenly very conscious of his weakness. Even after all these years being in this place turned him back into the scared little boy who did what he was told. Not that it mattered. The second he said be couldn't Jonathan stepped up behind him and grabbed a book.

"My son Jonathan Christopher..." he read aloud from the worn parchment pages. "He says that but he treated me more like a weapon than his son." Jonathan replaced the book on the shelf and turned back to his sister.

"We'll be here all day if we have to read them one by one."

"Do you have a better idea Clarissa?" Jonathan responded

"That depends, do you have a pen?" It was Jace who figured out what she had in mind and he went over to the desk to retrieve a piece of paper and drawing utensil. Then Clary set to work drawing the shelves and books with careful detail then etching the little rune in the corner of the page. She walked up to the shelf and turned to her brother, a light smirk tickling at the edge of her lip before she unceremoniously swept her arm across the shelf causing all of the books to tumble into the page.

"You never cease to amaze me." Jonathan said staring at the small woman in front of him who then folded the paper and tucked it into her coat pocket. He was so caught up in his musing that he almost didn't hear the clicks and whirling of the shelf being pulled up the wall revealing a set of stairs leading down.

"I don't remember this place ever having a basement." Jace piped up, a dash of concern touching his voice.

"Please don't tell me this is Valentine's secret sex dungeon." Clary said attempting to light the mood.

"As delightful as that image is little sister I believe it's just one of his regular dungeons. We should probably leave before something escapes and tries to kill us." Jonathan couldn't place the feeling but he didn't belong there. Simply standing at the edge of the doorway made his skin feel like it was peeling off of his bones.

"I don't remember there even being a cellar here," Jace said, staring past Clary at the gaping hole in the wall. He raised the witchlight, and its glow bounced off the downward-leading tunnel. The walls were black and slick, made of a smooth dark stone Clary didn't recognize. The steps gleamed as if they were damp. A strange smell drifted up through the opening: dank, musty, with a weird metallic tinge that set her nerves on edge.

"What do you think could be down there?" She asked

"I don't know." Jace moved toward the stairs; he put a foot on the top step, testing it, and then shrugged as if he'd made up his mind. He began to make his way down the steps, moving carefully. Partway down he turned and looked up at Clary. "Are you coming? You can wait up here for me if you want to."

She glanced back at Jonathan who seemed to be inching further and further from the cellar door. "We should really get out off here I have a bad feeling about this." He said holding his hands out to her. She looked back at the doorway and the receding glow from Jace's witch light.

"It'll just be a moment," she said turning back to her brother before following Jace down the stairs.

* * *

 _A/N: most of the following text till the next break comes straight out of CoG and is the intellectual property of Cassandra Clare. I debated whether or not I should include this scene, but every abridged summary I tried to write with flashes and snitbits fell flat of the actual thing. Also this is exactly what is happening at this point in the story and none of the changes I made previously would effect this scene as a whole so here you go_

* * *

The stairs spiraled down in tighter and tighter circles, as if they were making their way through the inside of a huge conch shell. The smell grew stronger as they reached the bottom, and the steps widened out into a large square room whose stone walls were streaked with the marks of damp—and other, darker stains. The floor was scrawled with markings: a jumble of pentagrams and runes, with white stones scattered here and there.

Jace took a step forward and something crunched under his feet. He and Clary looked down at the same time. "Bones," Clary whispered. Not white stones after all, but bones of all shapes and sizes, scattered across the floor. "What was he doing down here?"

The witchlight burned in Jace's hand, casting its eerie glow over the room. "Experiments," Jace said in a dry, tense tone. "The Seelie Queen said—"

"What kind of bones are these?" Clary's voice rose. "Are they animal bones?"

"No." Jace kicked a pile of bones with his feet, scattering them. "Not all of them."

Clary's chest felt tight. "I think we should go back."

Instead Jace raised the witchlight in his hand. It blazed out, brightly and then more brightly, lighting the air with a harsh white brilliance. The far corners of the room sprang into focus. Three of them were empty. The fourth was blocked with a hanging cloth. There was something behind the cloth, a humped shape—

"Jace," Clary whispered. "What is that?"

He didn't reply. There was a seraph blade in his free hand, suddenly; Clary didn't know when he'd drawn it, but it shone in the witchlight like a blade of ice.

"Jace, don't," said Clary, but it was too late—he strode forward and twitched the cloth aside with the tip of the blade, then seized it and jerked it down. It fell in a blossoming cloud of dust.

Jace staggered back, the witchlight falling from his grasp. As the blazing light fell, Clary caught a single glimpse of his face: It was a white mask of horror. Clary snatched the witchlight up before it could go dark and raised it high, desperate to see what could have shocked Jace—unshockable Jace—so badly.

At first all she saw was the shape of a man—a man wrapped in a dirty white rag, crouched on the floor. Manacles circled his wrists and ankles, attached to thick metal staples driven into the stone floor. How can he be alive? Clary thought in horror, and bile rose up in her throat. The rune-stone shook in her hand, and light danced in patches over the prisoner: She saw emaciated arms and legs, scarred all over with the marks of countless tortures. The skull of a face turned toward her, black empty sockets where the eyes should have been—and then there was a dry rustle, and she saw that what she had thought was a white rag were wings, white wings rising up behind his back in two pure white crescents, the only pure things in this filthy room.

She gave a dry gasp. "Jace. Do you see—"

"I see." Jace, standing beside her, spoke in a voice that cracked like broken glass.

"You said there weren't any angels—that no one had ever seen one—"

Jace was whispering something under his breath, a string of what sounded like panicked curses. He stumbled forward, toward the huddled creature on the floor—and recoiled, as if he had bounced off an invisible wall. Looking down, Clary saw that the angel crouched inside a pentagram made of connected runes graven deeply into the floor; they glowed with a faint phosphorescent light. "The runes," she whispered. "We can't get past—"

"But there must be something—" Jace said, his voice nearly breaking, "something we can do."

The angel raised its head. Clary saw with a distracted, terrible pity that it had curling golden hair like Jace's that shone dully in the light. Tendrils clung close to the hollows of its skull. Its eyes were pits, its face slashed with scars, like a beautiful painting destroyed by vandals. As she stared, its mouth opened and a sound poured from its throat—not words but a piercing golden music, a single singing note, held and held and held so high and sweet that the sound was like pain—

A flood of images rose up before Clary's eyes. She was still clutching the rune-stone, but its light was gone; she was gone, no longer there but somewhere else, where the pictures of the past flowed before her in a waking dream—fragments, colors, sounds.

She was in a wine cellar, bare and clean, a single huge rune scrawled on the stone floor. A man stood beside it; he held an open book in one hand and a blazing white torch in the other. When he raised his head, Clary saw that it was Valentine: much younger, his face unlined and handsome, his dark eyes clear and bright. As he chanted, the rune blazed up into fire, and when the flames receded, a crumpled figure lay among the ashes: an angel, wings spread and bloody, like a bird shot out of the sky….

The scene changed. Valentine stood by a window, at his side a young woman with shining red hair. A familiar silver ring gleamed on his hand as he reached to put his arms around her. With a jolt of pain Clary recognized her mother—but she was young, her features soft and vulnerable. She was wearing a white nightgown and was obviously pregnant.

"The Accords," Valentine was saying angrily, "were not just the worst idea the Clave has ever had, but the worst thing that could happen to Nephilim. That we should be bound to Downworlders, tied to those creatures—"

"Valentine," Jocelyn said with a smile, "enough about politics, please." She reached up and twined her arms around Valentine's neck, her expression full of love—and his was as well, but there was something else in it, something that sent a shiver down Clary's spine….

Valentine knelt in the center of a circle of trees. There was a bright moon overhead, illuminating the black pentagram that had been scrawled into the scraped earth of the clearing. The branches of trees made a thick net overhead; where they extended above the edge of the pentagram, their leaves curled and turned black. In the center of the five-pointed star sat a woman with long, shining hair; her shape was slim and lovely, her face hidden in shadow, her arms bare and white. Her left hand was extended in front of her, and as she opened her fingers, Clary could see that there was a long slash across her palm, dripping a slow stream of blood into a silver cup that rested on the pentagram's edge. The blood looked black in the moonlight, or perhaps it was black.

"The child born with this blood in him," she said, and her voice was soft and lovely, "will exceed in power the Greater Demons of the abysses between the worlds. He will be more mighty than the Asmodei, stronger than the shedim of the storms. If he is properly trained, there is nothing he will not be able to do. Though I warn you," she added, "it will burn out his humanity, as poison burns the life from the blood."

"My thanks to you, Lady of Edom," said Valentine, and as he reached to take the cup of blood, the woman lifted her face, and Clary saw that though she was otherwise beautiful, her eyes were hollow black holes from which curled waving black tentacles, like feelers probing the air. Clary stifled a scream—

The night, the forest, vanished. Jocelyn stood facing someone Clary couldn't see. She was no longer pregnant, and her bright hair straggled around her stricken, despairing face. "I can't stay with him, Ragnor," she said. "Not for another day. I read his book. Do you know what he did to Jonathan? I didn't think even Valentine could do that." Her shoulders shook. "He used demon blood—Jonathan's not a baby anymore. He isn't even human; he's a monster—"

She vanished. Valentine was pacing restlessly around the circle of runes, a seraph blade shining in his hand. "Why won't you speak?" he muttered. "Why won't you give me what I want?" He drove down with the knife, and the angel writhed as golden liquid poured from its wound like spilled sunlight. "If you won't give me answers," Valentine hissed, "you can give me your blood. It will do me and mine more good than it will you."

Now they were in the Wayland library. Sunlight shone through the diamond-paned windows, flooding the room with blue and green. Voices came from another room: the sounds of laughter and chatting, a party going on. Jocelyn knelt by the bookshelf, glancing from side to side. She drew a thick book from her pocket and slipped it onto the shelf….

And she was gone. The scene showed a cellar, the same cellar that Clary knew she was standing in right now. The same scrawled pentagram scarred the floor, and within the center of the star lay the angel. Valentine stood by, once again with a burning seraph blade in his hand. He looked years older now, no longer a young man. "Ithuriel," he said. "We are old friends now, aren't we? I could have left you buried alive under those ruins, but no, I brought you here with me. All these years I've kept you close, hoping one day you would tell me what I wanted—needed—to know." He came closer, holding the blade out, its blaze lighting the runic barrier to a shimmer. "When I summoned you, I dreamed that you would tell me why. Why Raziel created us, his race of Shadowhunters, yet did not give us the powers Downworlders have—the speed of the wolves, the immortality of the Fair Folk, the magic of warlocks, even the endurance of vampires. He left us naked before the hosts of hell but for these painted lines on our skin. Why should their powers be greater than ours? Why can't we share in what they have? How is that just?"

Within its imprisoning star the angel sat silent as a marble statue, unmoving, its wings folded. Its eyes expressed nothing beyond a terrible silent sorrow.

Valentine's mouth twisted. "Very well. Keep your silence. I will have my chance." Valentine lifted the blade. "I have the Mortal Cup, Ithuriel, and soon I shall have the Sword—but without the Mirror I cannot begin the summoning. The Mirror is all I need. Tell me where it is. Tell me where it is, Ithuriel, and I will let you die."

The scene broke apart in fragments, and as her vision faded, Clary caught glimpses of images now familiar to her from her own nightmares—angels with wings both white and black; sheets of mirrored water, gold and blood; Jace and Jonathan side by side winged angel's, one gold and light the other obsidian and darkness. Clary reached out for them, and for the first time the angel's voice spoke in her head in words that she could understand.

These are not the first dreams I have ever showed you.

The image of a rune burst behind her eyes, like fireworks—not a rune she had ever seen before; it was as strong, simple, and straightforward as a tied knot. It was gone in a breath as well, and as it vanished, the angel's singing ceased. Clary was back in her own body, reeling on her feet in the filthy and reeking room. The angel was silent, frozen, wings folded, a grieving effigy.

Clary let out her breath in a sob. "Ithuriel." She reached her hands out to the angel, knowing she couldn't pass the runes, her heart aching. For years the angel had been down here, sitting silent and alone in the blackness, chained and starving but unable to die….

Jace was beside her. She could see from his stricken face that he'd seen everything she had. He looked down at the seraph blade in his hand and then back at the angel. Its blind face was turned toward them in silent supplication.

Jace took a step forward, and then another. His eyes were fixed on the angel, and it was as if, Clary thought, there were some silent communication passing between them, some speech she couldn't hear. Jace's eyes were bright as gold disks, full of reflected light.

"Ithuriel," he whispered.

The blade in his hand blazed up like a torch. Its glow was blinding. The angel raised its face, as if the light were visible to its blind eyes. It reached out its hands, the chains that bound its wrists rattling like harsh music.

Jace turned to her. "Clary," he said. "The runes."

The runes. For a moment she stared at him, puzzled, but his eyes urged her onward. She handed Jace the witchlight, took Jonathan''s stele from her pocket, and knelt down by the scrawled runes. They looked as if they'd been gouged into the stone with something sharp.

She glanced up at Jace. His expression startled her, the blaze in his eyes—they were full of faith in her, of confidence in her abilities. With the tip of the stele she traced several lines into the floor, changing the runes of binding to runes of release, imprisonment to openness. They flared up as she traced them, as if she were dragging a match tip across sulphur.

Done, she rose to her feet. The runes shimmered before her. Abruptly Jace moved to stand beside her. The witchlight stone was gone, the only illumination coming from the seraph blade that he'd named for the angel, blazing in his hand. He stretched it out, and this time his hand passed through the barrier of the runes as if there were nothing there.

The angel reached its hands up and took the blade from him. It shut its blind eyes, and Clary thought for a moment that it smiled. It turned the blade in its grasp until the sharp tip rested just below its breastbone. Clary gave a little gasp and moved forward, but Jace grabbed her arm, his grip like iron, and yanked her backward—just as the angel drove the blade home.

The angel's head fell back, its hands dropping from the hilt, which protruded from just where its heart would be—if angels had hearts; Clary didn't know. Flames burst from the wound, spreading outward from the blade. The angel's body shimmered into white flame, the chains on its wrists burning scarlet, like iron left too long in a fire. Clary thought of medieval paintings of saints consumed in the blaze of holy ecstasy—and the angel's wings flew wide and white before they, too, caught and blazed up, a lattice of shimmering fire.

Clary could no longer watch. She turned and buried her face in Jace's shoulder. His arm came around her, his grip tight and hard. "It's all right," he said into her hair, "it's all right," but the air was full of smoke and the ground felt like it was rocking under her feet. It was only when Jace stumbled that she realized it wasn't shock: The ground was moving. She let go of Jace and staggered; the stones underfoot were grinding together, and a thin rain of dirt was sifting down from the ceiling. The angel was a pillar of smoke; the runes around it glowed painfully bright. Clary stared at them, decoding their meaning, and then looked wildly at Jace. "The manor—it was tied to Ithuriel. If the angel dies, the manor—"

* * *

 _A/N: End except taken from City of Glass by Cassandra Clare, chapter 9:This Guilty Blood_

* * *

"CLARY!" she never finished her sentence. The ground began to shake beneath them and after the flash of light Jonathan was racing down the stairs the pain he felt being near the cellar nothing compared to the possibility of failing to protect his sister again.

He met them half way as they scrambled to escape the crumbling manor. With no time for words, nor a moment to lose he picked Clary up as she stumbled over a step and in no time they were bursting back into the library with the stairs collapsing just as they made it out. Both men kept up their momentum Jace grabbed a chair and threw it through the library window and it shattered on impact. Jonathan huddled through carrying Clary as the glass scraped his arms and face, while Jace followed close behind.

With the sound of ruin at their backs the two shadowhunter hybrids ran as if their lives depended on it, finding their legs moving faster than ever before they reached the lake that had seemed so far away from the library window before collapsing. Jonathan atop Clary, shielding her from any debris that may reach them. After a few moments the realized they were in the clear. "I think I dropped your stele somewhere Jon." Clary squeaked from beneath him. He rolled off of her and pulled them both to their knees facing one another as he checked her for injuries.

"I don't care about that stupid stick of Adamus, are you OK? God I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you." He ran his hands over her arms before cupping them around her face. She gave him a slight smile and he relaxed a little beneath her gaze, before she was ripped from his arms.

Jace pulled her behind himself roughly his fingers harsh and restricting as they dug into her skin. Anger blazed in his eyes as he leveled them at Jonathan, but behind them one could see the barest twinge of fear. Now knowing what exactly Valentine did to his first born, Jace could only imagine the cruelties he was capable of, and he'd let him near Clary over his cold dead body. "Touch her again and I will cut you down where you stand like the monster you are." Jace pulled a knife from his belt and pointed it at Jonathan who held his hands in mock surrender. His posture was entirely relaxed as he looked from the knife to Jace then further on to Clary. He let out a barely detectable snarl when he saw how tightly Jace was gripping her arm.

"I'm not the one hurting her right now am I?" He slowly lowered his hands back to his sides as he advanced on the reluctant pair. "What exactly did you find down there that suddenly has you so up in arms? I thought, that we had an arrangement." Jace made a lateral movement turning Jonathan's advance into a predatory circle. Both warriors keeping their distance from the other, and Jace dragging Clary away from Jonathan much to his dismay.

"Sorry I don't make deals with demons."

"Oh how cruel of you to say brother, and here I thought we were just starting to get along." He turned his attention to Clary then, "And you sweet sister, what did you learn of me on you impromptu secret staircase adventure?"

"Nothing that I didn't already know." Her words caused both males to pause. She wretched her arm or of Jace's grip and set herself equally between them before she continued."Valentine told me after you first brought me to him. He explained to me how each of us are different from regular shadowhunters. It didn't really mean anything to me then, considering Valentine then turned around and used that same justification to rape me—" Clary's voice choked up a bit on the words, and when she continued her speech was noticeably softer, "I figured he was the real monster for what he did to all of us, and so far you haven't done anything to prove me wrong." Clary took a steep towards Jonathan and the tension left his body once more she mirrored his gesture from earlier and held his face in her hands while looking him in the eyes. She was struck by the differences spread between them as she drowned in his obsidian gaze, "Please Jon, don't prove me wrong." His eyes softened at the nickname and she couldn't tell if his eyes took on a forest green color, or if they were just reflecting the forest.

She didn't get the chance to ask however as she was pulled away from Jonathan once again, only this time not by Jace. A team of Shadowhunters descended upon them, all three too caught up in current revelations to sense the ambush. With them being caught off guard and out numbered ten to one the fight was over before it had even begun and all three were restrained and pressed to the ground as a figure emerged from the shadows. "How touching, so nice to see my children getting along. I must however choose to question your choice of venue as is."

Jonathan was the first to speak up "I'm sorry father I take full responsibility of the situation, Clarissa was feeling restless so Jace and I decided to give her a tour of the countryside."

"I am sorry, but you seem to be under the impression that you had the authority to make that decision. I gave you all permission to roam the estate, not all of Idris." Valentine was faintly amused by his offspring's antics, the mock confusion and sarcasm was heard easily in his tone, but his patience was wearing thin.

Jace choose to respond this time, following similarly to Jonathan's deny everything routine. "That one happens to be my fault, I was trying to get a second alone with Clary and suggested we take a leisurely turn about the gardens.

"Really? Is that the best lie you can come up with?" He looked off towards where the smoldering remains if Wayland manor lay then turned back to them. "Someone please tell me how a leisurely afternoon stroll ends five miles away next to your brothers destroyed childhood home?" Valentine was at his wit's end with teenagers. How mundanes managed them was beyond his knowledge.

It was Clary who answered this time, "That would be my fault I'm afraid. I've been known to attract things like chaos, destruction, and the occasional explosion; an unfortunate side effect of being an inhuman experiment, but you would know all about that wouldn't you." There were thirty expertly trained and fully equipped shadow hunters surrounding them and Clary couldn't imagine that they all knew everything about Valentine's experiments, especially not the part about having an angel chained up in his basement.

For half a second his face blanched and contorted in obvious anger, it was gone in an instant but Clary had already seen his fear 'jackpot' she thought to herself as Valentine attempted to smooth his features into indifference. "Come now Clarissa, this isn't new information for any of you so if you wish to discuss this, we can do it as a family later." Before anyone could say other word on the matter. Valentine made a gesture in the air, similar to the motions of a warlock and the three teenagers fell unconscious in their awaiting captor's arms.

* * *

Valentine has for the second time found himself at a loss when it comes to parenting. Honestly why must guys daughter insist upon causing trouble everywhere she goes. Jonathan and Jace used to follow his orders perfectly and without question.

Now it seems that they follow hers...

The males in question were currently locked in their respective bedrooms having already received their lashes for the infraction. Now Valentine finds himself pondering the nights events in his private study that adjoins the lab his daughter is currently confined to. Unlike her brothers Clarissa didn't grow up with his disciplinary system and would respond differently to his usual method of whipping the skin off her back and locking her in a room til she's in a more cooperative mood...meaning that that plan is the least likely to get her anywhere reassembling cooperative. Valentine paced in his office as he pondered his options.

Primarily there's the option of simply talking to her and hoping for the best, but even as he considered to consider this he knew it was a lofty aspiration. He rolled up the sleeves of his collard shirt and walked over to the cabinet that contained some of his more subtle interrogation tools to help him visualize his options.

The contents of the cabinet ranged from books and journals to mundane drugs and fey concoctions. It was the latter group he found himself investigating at the moment. Valentine knew his goal was to assert his authority over her and make it stick. He couldn't have his two best weapons chasing after her instead of obeying his every command, but he needed to find a way to control her without ruining his new favorite toy. He set his hand on a swirling silver vial. The mundane drugs were too risky to any potential pregnancy, he decided.

Valentine took a syringe of the concoction and made his way to the lab. Turning the knob and walking into the room he pretended to be oblivious of her presence.

Clarissa was strapped to an examination chair completely unable to move, that isn't to say that she didn't try however. Valentine glanced at her from the corner of his eye and saw her body vibrating with the effort to establish her presence. The leather band over her mouth muffling the probable obscenities spewing from it. Every inch of her gave off an aura of righteous fury and Valentine found himself very aroused at the sight of her completely at his mercy, but he needed patience to break her.

He pretended to survey the room. It was fairly small compared to his office with only a few pieces of furniture in it and a simple stone bench attached to the far wall to act as a cot for prisoners. The wall to his right contained an array of shackles that he ran his hands over, eliciting a particularly violent response from Clarissa. The other two walls were bare save the door he entered from, as that the room was essentially a replica of one of the cells in the dungeon with the inclusion of the examination chair, where his daughter currently resided, in the middle of the room and the stool beside it.

Having enough with admiring from afar Valentine finally turned to face her. Their eyes meet for a moment and her fiery hatred meet his cool indifference.

Clary had spent her time trying not to think of her current situation and what she needs to get out of it. The first thing on her mind was Jace, and the second was her brother. She needed to know what Valentine did to them, and if they're safe.

When Valentine walked in she realized that that last part is fairly relative considering none of them are really safe so long as this remorseless maniac is in charge.

Clary followed him with her eyes as he made his approach.

"Quite the exciting night you've had," He began as he made his way closer to her, "Now Jonathan and Jace wouldn't tell me anything, and you have to understand that as a father I find that rather upsetting." He finally sat down in the still beside her and his proximity did nothing to abate Clary's nervous fidgeting. He reached over to her and wrapped one of her stray curls around his fingers, playing with her hair as he continued to speak despite her obvious discomfort. "It's always so disappointing when your children don't listen to you, after everything I only want what is best for them. Is that so wrong Clarissa? To want to build a better world for my offspring."

Clarissa responded with a rather unladylike phrase, presumably as the gag only letting out muffled vibrations. Valentine continued on as if she stayed silent. "I try not to ask too much of you children, but one can assume that loyalty is a reasonable enough request. Is it not? Clearly you must not think so daughter, since your brothers follow you around like lost puppies. Tell me, what is it about yourself that has the two greatest shadowhunters ever trained so...enchanted" His hand left her hair and caressed the side of her face, Clary tried to flinch away from his touch but was again faced with her confinement. "Oh how forgetful of me, you can't answer with that thing over your mouth." He reached across her to remove the restricting leather band then sat back in his chair.

The removal of that band allowed Clary a bit more mobility, particularly the ability to turn her head away from her father. She seemed determined not to acknowledge him, and Valentine was feed up with his children's flagrant disobedience. "Clarissa I'm only going to ask you this two times, and hopefully you'll answer the first," He got up and walked around the seat to face her, keeping the silver vial and syringe in clear view to deliver his threat. "Because I'd hate to have to use this on you. What were the three if you children looking for at Wayland Manor?"

"What is it?" Her eyes flickered from the vial to her father, confusion and apprehension written on her features.

"A truth serum of sorts would be the easiest way to describe it, but it's a mixture of fairy blood and water from Lake Lynn. It lowers the victims inhibitions and makes them much more compliant as well as more likely to tell the truth. So either you can tell me what the three of you were doing of your own free will, or I could give you a shot of this and you'll tell me what you were doing of your own free will." Clary's look of confusion made way for one of abject horror at what her father just said.

"You are sick!"

"And you are beginning to wearing out my patience Clarissa. Answer the question."

Clary was terrified, but she couldn't let it show. She had to tell Valentine something otherwise he'd force her to tell him everything, but what could she possibly tell him that wouldn't reveal their plans? Valentine seemed to have enough of her silence and began prepping the injection spurring a response from Clary, "We were just out for a walk! I told you the truth before please just let me go!"

Valentine proceeded with false indifference, he sat back down on the stool by her head before asking again. "Clarissa I'm doing you a favor here, I'm giving you the opportunity to make the right decision for yourself." He brushed his hand along the column of her neck to push her hair out of the way from the injection site. Then his hand lingered cradling her head, he turned her to face him, and brought his other hand up to place the syringe on her neck before asking again. "Last chance Angel, please just tell me the truth." He could see tears running down her cheeks and the needle scraped her neck leaving a small trail of blood as she cooked back sobs. Clary knew she had to tell him something now, or risk losing a lot more down the line, but her voice still shook when she began speaking.

"OK, OK. You're right we were there for a reason. I'd been hearing a voice in my head ever since I found out about the shadow world, pulling me towards Wayland Manor. It was the angle Ithuriel crying out for help." She figured Valentine must have been the one to tie the angel's life force to the manor, Clary decided that telling him something he already knows must be the least damaging truth. Hopefully it's enough. "I didn't tell Jace or Jonathan about it, just that I needed to get to Wayland manor. Jonathan may have suspected when we got there, I think the extra angelic presence hurt him, but Jace didn't know until we were in the cellar- he didn't know until we saw what you did. We killed the angel then ran, and I believe you know the rest."

When she was finished speaking Valentine relaxed the hand holding the syringe and began stroking her hair fondly. "Was that really so difficult now my sweet little Angel? I'm glad you finally told me the truth, but I just have one more question to ask." He leaned across her body and pressed his lips to her cheek, he placed a light kiss there before sliding then down to whisper in her ear "Did you really think I would take anymore chances by believing you?" His grip on her hair tightens as her jamms the almost forgotten syringe into her neck, and Clary screams.

Valentine covered her lips with his own as the fey concoction began to pump through her veins. He could feel her heart racing against his chest trying to reject the poison, and failing. All the while he kissed her through her screams, hands fisting in her hair as he lay half on top of her, and waiting until her heart beat slowed down to indicate that the serum has taken effect.

Clary felt like her blood was boiling her from the inside as the injection rushed through her veins. She couldn't move, breathe, or think as the was suffocating beneath her father. With his bonds holding her in place and his poison violating her insides, he took advantage of her inability to fight back and ravaged her mouth. She tried to push him off off her but the double assault was taking its toll.

Clary could feel the strength draining out of her body as the injection made its way through he blood stream fighting for dominance...and winning. He mind began to cloud and her sense of self was scattered to the furthest reaches of her brain. Her thoughts scrambled before they could form and the only thing she could focus on was the sensation of someone's lips moving over her own. Her head felt heavy and she let it fall back into the hand clutching at her hair, she couldn't think of any reason not to.

She couldn't think of anything actually, just that what was currently being done to her felt good. A small voice in the back of her head tried to say 'no it doesn't', but every bit of tension had already left her body and Clary felt at peace. She couldn't understand how that could be wrong—

Valentine felt her lips begin to respond to his own and knew that she was now perfectly under his control, he pulled away from her delighted by the small moan of disapproval she let out. "Now that that unpleasantness is out of the way, would you like for me to untie you?" He posed the question then watched as she tried to think of a response.

Clary was just now taking note of her bindings, up until then it didn't seem like she had a reason to care whether or not she could move, but now it seems like an oversight. "Yes please, that would be very beneficial." Valentine smiled to himself as he undid the leather straps, and helped her out of the chair. She stumbled and leaned against him when he placed her on her feet and Valentine took the opportunity to wrap his arms around her, placing one hand on the small of her back and the other on her upper arm.

"Careful now Clarissa I would hate to see you over exert yourself, in fact why don't we have a seat in my office."

"Yes that sounds nice." Valentine led her through the door back into his office and sat her down in one of the two guest chairs in front of his desk. Instead of sitting down in a chair himself he casually leaned against the desk directly in front of Clary before addressing her again.

"Now if you're feeling up for it Clarissa I just have a few questions for you."

"I feel perfectly fine, and I'm happy to help in any way I can Father." The strange thing was that Clary wasn't lying, she really did feel fine. There was still a strange fog in the back of her mind but the more Valentine spoke the more clarity she got, and the less important the voice seemed to her...

"I'm glad to hear that, now what where you and your brothers doing in Wayland Manor?"

"We were looking for your journals—" her response was immediate, but the clouds seemed especially dense around the reason she was looking for them. "I think Jonathan said that we needed to know as much about ourselves as you did about us...That's all I can remember, was it helpful?" The grin that split Valentine's face was almost inhuman, he was clearly very pleased with the knowledge that his children still had no real plan to defeat him. 'So long as they're still gathering information I can still control their actions, and I can't imagine they'd learn anything useful from those journals'

Valentine dismissed his plotting children as a reputable threat to his own plans and returned his attention to his newly strung puppet. "That was very helpful my sweet little Angel, thank you for telling me." He smiled down at her as a plan for the night started to take shape in his mind. His hand reached down to brush away a stray lock of hair that fell over her eye when she looked up to meet his gaze. His hand remained on her cheek as he made his next statement, "In fact I think you deserve a reward for tonight,"

As the words left his mouth Valentine was already leaning his head down to seal his lips against her own, and like before, she began to kiss him back. Valentine groaned at her automatic response and pulled Clary out of her seat, only to spin around and sit her on his desk.

Clary was quick to respond to her new position, wrapping her legs around Valentine's waist pulling him closer to her. While he was very tempted to simply lay her out on his desk and have at it, he had better more rewarding things in mind, and with that thought he pulled away from her and sat in the chair she just vacated.

Clary was flushed, confused, and out of breath from the suddenness with which Valentine pulled away from her. She reached towards him attempting to reestablish their connection but he grabbed her arm by the wrist and kept her at a distance. "Not so fast Angel, we will continue but first I need you to undress yourself for me." He rolled her arm over in his grip and left a kiss on the inside of her palm before letting her go. "Can you do that for me Angel?"

"Yes, of course Father. Anything." Clary was quick to toe off her shoes and socks while she was still on the desk after that she seemed at an impasse for what to take off next, and a small voice in the back of her head kept screaming that she shouldn't be doing this. Valentine was quick to see her falter and decided to give her a few suggestions.

"Take off your shirt first sweetheart." His words quelled the small voice in her head and she was quick to follow his orders reaching down to pull her shirt over her head while Valentine admired the newly exposed flesh. She didn't need prompting to take off her jeans and soon enough she was standing in front of her father in a pair of lace boxer shorts and an emerald green bralette. When she picked them that morning she was just looking for the most normal underwear she could find. Now it seems as if it wouldn't have made a difference either way, Valentine was staring at her like a present wrapped especially for him. "Almost done Clarissa. Though I do like that you've made use of the clothing I got for you I'd much prefer to see you without anything on right now."

Clary flushed at his words but still obeyed him, her delicate breasts bounced free as she pulled the bralette over her head then grabbed her panties and bent down pulling them off her legs. When she straightened up the voice returned, telling her to cover herself. Telling her to run, she pulled her arms up to her chest but Valentine seemed displeased with that so instead she stood still with her cheeks flushed, her head down, and her arms resting at her sides while Valentine inspected her.

"Beautiful. You are absolutely breathtaking my own fallen angel presenting herself to me in her natural glory." His eyes raked over her chest and followed her freckles around her body. He could still see some of the bruises from the last time he'd fucked her, but they'd healed for the most part leaving her body as unblemished and angelic as before. "Would you turn for me Angel, I want to see all of you."

"Anything to please you father." The voice was now more of a distant ringing in her head but his direct order had the same effect as before clouding her mind to anything but what he was telling her, as she turned around Valentine was finding it harder to keep his composure, luckily he didn't have to for much longer.

"Now bend over and place your hands on the desk sweetheart." Clary did so and Valentine admired the uninhibited view of her wet cunt. He began undressing himself as she stood there bent over the table waiting for his next order, and knowing he was watching her. He popped each button out of its hole then pulled his shirt off by the collar. Bending over he kept his eyes on her cunt watching it quiver with Clary's nervous energy as he took of his shoes.

When he stood to walk towards her she was practically panting with anticipation, and he was quick to pull down his pants and grind his own excitement into her and she moaned at the sudden contact.

Without his words the potion made it seem as though her world began and ended at where he touched her, and she was so eager to please. She tried to grind back against him, dying for any kind of friction, but he pulled away to remove his pants completely. Not knowing that she whined her displeasure but that quickly changed when she felt the smooth velvet flesh of his hard cock against her slick folds. "Ahhhh!" The cry rushed from her lips at the direct contact, Clary felt as if her entire being was melting into his, she could feel his arousal against her own and it felt like she was being consumed by his desire for her body. "Please, more please give me more!"

Valentine leaned down against her back hands gliding up her sides and groping the soft flesh as he went. "How much more angel? This is supposed to be your reward after all." The low growl of his voice vibrated against her neck further reducing Clary to a wanton moaning mess. "Oh, now don't fall apart so easily on me. Tell me what you want? Tell me everything you **want** me to do to you." Valentine slid his right had back down her body and thrust two fingers into her pulling more euphoric cries from Clary, but pleasing as they were to hear Valentine wanted her words.

He stilled his fingers inside of her and bent forward, pressing his naked chest against her back before whispering in her ear. "What do you want me to do to you?"

"Please..." Her body was so strained and stimulated one word was all she could muster, but it wasn't good enough.

"I asked a simple question Clarissa. If you can't tell me what you want for your reward, then perhaps you deserve a punishment." He curled his fingers inside of her and ground his eager cock into her ass harder before continuing, "A shame really I already had something rather enjoyable already prepared for you."

"THAT! Oh please Valentine give it to me!" Clary was pent up, frustrated, and aroused beyond all logical thought as she begged her father to fuck her but Valentine wasn't done teasing her yet.

"You'll have to be more specific than that angel."

"Your cock! I need your cock, please oh please give it to me Valentine!"

He chuckled darkly and nipped at her ear with his teeth then growled in her ear, "This isn't enough? Well then what do you want me to do to you with it?"

"Fuck me!" Clary's breath was coming in short pants, Valentine had been holding her just on the edge of orgasm and she was ready to jump.

Finally hearing what he wanted Valentine was more than willing to comply, he pulled his fingers out of her now dripping cunt and used his hand to place the tip of his cock at her entrance. Poised and ready to penetrate he straightened himself up and took another look at the angel bent over his desk with her legs spread and thighs soaked with her own precum. "All you had to do was ask"

Valentine took his time and slowly impaled her on his rigid dick. Watching as each inch stretched her tight little cunt.

Clary had been prepared for fast forceful penetration, and his slow methodical insertion was driving her mad. She felt simultaneously stretched and empty as he held his cock back from bottoming out inside of her. She squeezed at him with her inner muscles trying to pull him further inside of her but he held himself to his languid pace.

For both of them it felt like forever before his hip bones meet her ass and when it did Clary was a mess. His insertion gave her no relief instead winding her up tighter with anticipation and frustration. Her fingernails dug into the word of the desk as she held onto the edge to give herself leverage to thrust her hips back trying to force his cock even deeper inside of her.

"Is this what you wanted Angel?" Valentine asked as Clary was practically vibrating on his cock, releasing soft moans from the back of her throat. He could hear little no's between choked sobs as she tried to get him to move. "Well then if that isn't what you wanted you'll just have to show me." He pulled out of her ten times faster than he'd entered her and the friction sent a chill up Clary's spine.

She turned around immediately, confused and displeased by this turn of events, but it all seemed more clear when she saw him sitting in the chair he'd vacated what seemed like eons ago completely naked with his cock standing at attention. She stepped towards him understanding what he was asking and the closer she got the more she could see a faint shine on it that must be her natural juices. She spread her thighs and straddled her father's lap.

Valentine was at a loss for words as she wrapped one arm around his neck and used her other hand to guide his cock back inside of her. Despite all the teasing he was floored by the sight of Clarissa willingly sinking down onto his cock.

She placed the hand that had guided his dick on his shoulder as this position pulled him deeper inside of her than when he had her bent over on his desk. Despite wanting to screw herself senseless on his cock Clary took things slow, feeling awkward on top unsure of how to move herself.

Valentine sensing her confusion placed his hands on her hips and rolled hers against him before picking her up and slamming her back down on his cock. "Just like that angel, do you think you can do that?" Clary whimpered an affirmative reply and was quickly enraptured with the task of furiously impaling herself on his dick. She used her grip on his shoulders as leverage and got lost in the task as well as the feeling of him pressing deeper and deeper inside of her.

His grip on her hips migrated up one stopping to cup her breast as they bounced in time to her frantic thrusts, the other continuing up to tangle in her hair. The copper locks never looked more like writhing heavenly fire than they did in this moment, Clary was luminescent. He used his hand to hold her head in place as he captured her mouth in a kiss. His lips didn't rest their long he left a trail of kisses starting from the corner of her mouth and leading down her jaw. Clary tilted her head back to give him more access as she became lost in the dual sensations, a symphony of moans escaping her lips melded with the harsh slapping sound of their thighs meeting as she continued to ride him with abandon.

Valentine was on fire, burning alive with his desire for the heavenly creature in his lap and enjoying every second of it. He used his knees to spread her legs just that little bit extra apart as she came down on him and she screamed from the deeper stimulation as it pushed her over the edge half collapsing on top of him as she lost her rhythm to a mind blowing orgasm.

As much as Valentine wanted to draw this out there was little he could do to hold off with her screaming and moaning in his lap while her cunt pulsed around his throbbing member. He returned his grip to her hips and used it to force her helpless body up and down on his cock until he emptied his balls inside her.

When they were finished they simply sat there in post coital bliss as his dick grew flaccid inside of her. "You did very well Angel, I'm so proud of you"

"I'm glad I was able to please you." Clary's head was buried in his neck and he could feel her lips moving against his skin as he smiled and replied.

"You did darling, immensely so. Now I think you should go get some rest while I clean up in here. Head to my room and I'll meet you there in a moment." He kissed the top of he head and watched as the command did it's work. She groggily unfolded herself from his lap and when she stood his seamen was running down her thighs.

"Please don't take too long, I'll be waiting for you." She smiled down at him and walked out of the room stark naked, and Valentine was too blissed out to care.

He made short work of picking up their clothing, putting his back on partially and tucking the rest underneath his arm, then he walked over to the cabinet from early and picked up another silver vial. It seems Clarissa is going to be much easier to handle from now on.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Heeeeeeeeeyyyyy...sorry? Life kind of slammed me in the face and writing took a sideline. For a brief synopsis of what that entailed read the comments at the end of the chapter, but if you have no room for my excuses I understand and will let you get on with the chapter. Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

Jonathan stood in the shower and watched the blood wash down the drain. The heat seared the raw flayed open skin of his back, but by now he was so used to the pain that he barely noticed it.

His blood swirled around the drain, black as pitch.

His most frequent reminder that everything about him is wrong.

That he's an unnatural freak of nature.

An abomination.

Unfixable.

Unnatural.

Unlovable.

Not that he should care. After all demons don't have feelings...

For most of his life that was something he believed, after all why would his father lie to him? He still remembered that day, and he doubts that he'll ever forget it, playing in the meadow by the cottage where he grew up and being dismissed.

He'd finally gotten up the courage to ask about his mother, and Valentine crushed it, and after that he tried his hardest to crush Jonathan's spirit.

"She left Jonathan, because of you. There's something wrong with you, and because of that she could never loved you." Jonathan didn't understand what love had anything to do with her leaving but it seemed reason enough for his father. Jonathan just wanted his mother to come back and teach him things, maybe she could fix what's wrong with him and they can move back in with grandma and grandpa so everyone can be happy again.

Father didn't think so. "You can't be fixed Jonathan, and I'm the only person who will ever love you." Even though his father kept repeating it Jonathan still didn't understand what love had to do with anything. 'Maybe that's what Father wants, I just want everyone to be happy again."

How naive of him to think that. Even before he knew his father murdered his grandparents and drove his mother away, but then he was alone...So so terribly alone. Valentine often left him for long stretches of time. The older he got the longer his father went away.

Sometimes it was a blessing...other times it was torture.

He was six years old the first time his father left for a whole month, and for that month he was alone, with nothing but the sounds of the night and the light of his seraph blades to keep him company. At first he was too scared to touch anything of his father's, but as the days went on he began to care less about his father's rules, and that is how he learned that he wasn't alone in this world.

Jonathan had been looking for a book to read to pass the time, without his father's presence he found little need to stick to Valentine's rigid schedule, and his father left his door unlocked. It had been a complete accident when he stumbled upon a black leather bound journal with a name on it

"Jocelyn" His mother's name, maybe this was her book he thought to himself. Maybe this can tell me why she left.

The book didn't really explain why she left, it was mostly notes taken by his father about her health. It did tell him one thing he didn't know before, Jocelyn was pregnant when she left. He had a sister.

She was supposed to be his salvation, instead he wound up dragging her to hell along side him. The thought chilled him to the bone, more than the cold water pouring down on him could, and with that thought he shut off the shower and exited the bathroom.

Of all the things to have gone wrong last night, his sister ending up back in their father's hands...back in his bed, was the one that upset Jonathan the most. He knew what Valentinewas capable of, the lengths he's willing to go to to maintain power in any situation, and there are very few things Clary could do to distract him all either too disgusting or disturbed to consider...

But Valentine wasn't breaking down his door again to beat him into submission again for plotting to kill him, so either she didn't tell him anything and he's busy torturing her for information or she out smarted him and they still have a chance. A derisive chuckle escaped his lips at the thought, Clary was good but she's still new to the game maybe one day, but not today.

Another chill passed over him as he dropped his towel and opened the bathroom door, and the cold was a nice change of pace from the eternal fire of his forever healing back. The scars have become little more than a nuisance in his day to day existence and a reminder of his lost humanity, but presently they serve to remind him of who took it and why Valentine deserves to burn alongside him for doing so.

All the manner of sins Valentine had his son commit left a stain on both of their souls, more than enough to turn a heart black three times over and this were just Jonathan's sins. Demons would blanch at the things Valentine has done in the name of the angel, and now he's finally going to pay for it, so long as they can survive till the end of the week to make him...

With that thought Jon grabbed an outfit from the nearest pile of clothing and prepared to face the consequences of last night.

* * *

Clary woke to the feeling of another needle being pressed into her neck and tensed, but the injection quickly returned her to a docile relaxed state. The voice telling her to run in a panicked scream of anguish slowly faded back into the dark recesses of her drugged mind. An arm snaked around her naked waist and rolled her over to face the warm body occupying the other half of the bed.

"Good morning Father. How might I serve you today?" A soft chuckle passed over her ears as Valentine used two fingers to tilt her chin up and force her to meet his dark gaze. What little was left of her mind was lost in the abyss of his eyes and the pitiful defense that had been building crumbled once more.

Valentine felt blood surge through his morning erection at her enticing words and all the images that came along with them, but unfortunately he had other plans for today that didn't involve fucking the enticing angel currently encircled in his arms until she lost her voice screaming his name. "Yes Angel there actually is something I need you to do for me."

Clarissa was quick to press her body to his and begin kissing a path along his jaw line thinking he meant sex, and Valentine was finding out very difficult to correct her. He simply lay there grinning like a maniac as she made a whore of herself in an effort to please him, dry humping his leg like a dog in heat and moaning at what little pleasure she got from the friction. When she reached for his throbbing member was when he knew he had to stop, or risk losing another day between her thighs. He grabbed her hand halting its progress to give her more clear orders. "As much as I do enjoy partaking in your body my dear Angel we have 4 days to plan a wedding and I still need to get you fitted for a dress."

"Of course father. I'm happy to serve." Her response was almost robotic as she got out of the bed and walked to the adjoining bathroom to shower. Valentine sat up to watch her go, his cum dripping down her thighs and bruises from his aggressive attention littering her otherwise flawless skin. He'll have to give her an iratze before she leaves so no one starts asking questions.

"Wait one moment Angel." Clary paused outside the bathroom door and turned back towards her father. The stele was in his bed side table and he made quick work of getting it and crossing the room to mark her. Their increased proximity made it harder for him to remember why exactly he was letting her leave his chambers but as he watched the bruises fade as the iratze did it's work he was reminded once more. "You'll make a lovely bride Clarissa."

"Thank you father, I'm glad I please you."

"You're most welcome Clarissa, that will be all for now, but I want you to meet me in my study again tonight after everyonehas gone to bed." With that dismissal she returned to her original task leaving Valentine in the room alone.

The man in question had many things on his agenda for the day, but he decided to take a few extra minutes to lay out a short black dress and matching underwear set for Clarissa to wear when she finished her shower, mostly out of fear that she'd wander the halls nude if he didn't. Though the knowledge that he'd get to take them off of her later helped...

* * *

When Clary got back to her room there were four women waiting for her and a pedestal set up in the middle of the floor with a simple dress pattern on it. The whole ordeal was fairly uneventful as she didn't have many of her own opinions to share with the designer, but all of her ideas sounded wonderful to Clary so the fitting was over relatively quickly.

She sat on her bed after and tried to process her situation again. She couldn't understand why she felt the need to but the longer she was alone the easier it was to focus her thoughts. That however, did not last long. There was an assertive knock on her door that let her know immediately who was on the other side. "Come in Jonathan."

Jonathan entered the room and shut the door behind him, but stopped short of coming any closer to Clary. He hovered in the corner, his dark mood practically swirling around him, he could smell their father all over her and it was driving him insane. Just when Clary thought he wasn't going to speak he finally addresses her. "Are you ok?"

"Ok is relative, but it was nothing I couldn't handle." Jonathan's shoulders sagged in relief, he didn't know what method Valentine used on his daughter but Jonathan was glad it didn't break her.

"I know you can handle it, you're one of the strongest people I know." He crossed the room and reached out as if to touch her, his hand hovering close to her cheek, but he stopped short yet again. The demon blooded boy felt as if he were too damaged to touch something so pure, but Clary tilted her cheek into his palm and smiled at him. When she smiled her whole face lit up and everything was drowned out by the light radiating from her. "But that doesn't stop me from wanting to protect you..." from all the big bad things in this world, including himself...especially himself.

Clarissa's smile faltered as she was reminded of what she needed protection from, or more accurately who. "No one can protect me..." Her sudden mood shift startled Jonathan and he waited for an explanation while she began to shake in his arms. "He did something to me Jon, I can't think...it's like there are clouds in my mind keeping me from remembering, or just forming my own thoughts"

She was sobbing in frustration but the lack of direct orders was helping her mind clear. Jonathan however was in shock. He knew exactly what their father did to her and he was astonished Clary was trusting him b with such information when she was so vulnerable. He could do anything to her right now, and order her to forget it in the next minute.

"Shhh, it's ok little sister stop crying and we'll figure this out." The words seemed so harmless Clary barely thought anything of it when her sobs immediately stopped. "You feel better now don't you?"

She nodded her head and relaxed in his arms as the little clarity she'd gained ebbed away and her consciousness screamed at her to try and hold on, to tell Jonathan that what he's doing isn't helping. She still didn't realize that he wasn't trying to help.

The demon boy was experiencing a great inner turmoil. He could take Clarissa completely for his own right now with almost no consequence to himself, but that would make him no better than Valentine. All his life he never cared whether or not he was a good person, but right now he found himself caring whether or not this hurt Clarissa. "Tell me exactly what happened." He lightly stroked her arm and waited for her to speak.

"I woke up and I was tied to a chair in one of father's labs. I was there for an hour or so alone before he came in." She began reciting the events of the previous night almost robotically remembering every little detail as if she were reliving it, when she got to the part where Valentine kissed her she choked on the words. Jonathan held her tighter and brought her back over to the bed to sit down. They sat there facing each other as Clary tried to get the words out, but Jonathan had another suggestion.

"If it's too hard to say it, why don't you show me what happened?"

"Show you how?"

"Pretend I'm him and show me what happened next." The direct order took effect immediately much to Clary's dismay and Jonathan's delight. She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought their lips together in a bruising kiss then used the leverage to drag his body on top of hers.

Jonathan was in heaven, pressing his body as close to hers as he could get, this was everything hed imagined and more, far beyond just holding and comforting her as a brother should. He could feel her heart beating in time with his and couldn't imagine ever not being this close to her at all times, his skin was set aflame wherever she touched him and his whole being felt as if she were sharing her light with his dark heart.

This is what he'd always imagined being truly alive would feel like...except it wasn't real.

'It could be.' He thought to himself. It could be so easy for him to let go of the fact that Clarissa isn't willingly making these decisions. If he could just let himself be the monster his father made him into he could have everything he's ever wanted willingly in the palm of his hand...Clary seemed to chose this moment to step back from Jonathan, and the demon boy sighed in relief that he wouldn't have to make that decision, until he saw what she was really doing and his breath caught in his throat. Clarissa was rather unceremoniously striping herself naked and Jonathan had to take a moment to remember how to breathe before he reminded himself that this wasn't real, and when Clarissa finally agrees to be his he needs it to be real."Stop."

His harsh, almost angry tone caused Clarissa to jerk away from him and Jonathan is quick to soften his demeanor so as not to frighten the drugged girl. "Please just put your clothes back on. I want to help you." He see's clary visibly relax at his words, the subtle tension that she had been holding throughout her body trying to fight the effects of the concoction melted away. She was quick to put her clothes back on as Jonathan took a moment to collect himself, and when he finally did they sat in an awkward silence as far away from each other as Clary's king sized bed would allow.

"How do you get this stuff out of me?" Clary broke their silence when she finally came back to herself. She held her arms around her body tightly as if that would keep it from betraying her once more. THis was going to be the straw that broke her, and that fact made Jonathan feel horrible for taking advantage of her vulnerability.

"I'm sorry, but there's nothing we can do except wait it out. It has to work it's way through your system naturally."

"Why are you sorry, you aren't the one who did this to me."

"Not directly, but I took advantage of you." Clary blushed as she recalled their recent entanglement, but she still believed it to be an honest mistake.

"You couldn't have known." Oh how wrong she was. Jonathan had been planning to fuck her raw, then order her to forget about it, and he was still searching for the strength to not go through with that plan.

"And you can't keep defending everyone, we're not all as inherently good as you and Angel boy." And he hated himself for it. How could he even hope to look upon her as one so unworthy. Jonathan turned away from her worth downcast eyes in shame. Afraid she would look into them and see nothingness staring back at her.

"I'm not a perfect as you like to imagine Jon." She placed her hand on his chin and lifted his face so she could look into his eyes. "We all have darkness inside of us." The words lit a fire in her eyes that burned through Jonathan and he felt his heart stop.

For a moment it was as if they were the only two people in the world, as they were entrapped in each other's gaze. "Will you stay with me?" She asked him breaking their silence.

"I'm not sure that's the best idea." He replied as hismind began to wander to all of the things that could happenif he did.

"Please Jon. I need you." Neither of them wanted her to wind up back in their father's bed with another needle in her neck. So Jonathan stayed.

Hee wrapped his arms around her and they lay together in companionable silence and ignored the world around them. He stayed with her all night holding her tighter when she tried to leave, and tighter still when She began to shake with withdrawals as the drug began to lose its hold on her.

* * *

The next morning Jonathan stood in the shower and watched the blood wash down the drain. The heat seared the raw flayed open skin of his back, but by now he was so used to the pain that he barely noticed it.

His blood as it swirled down the drain was what held his focus, today it was red.

A dark burgundy shade, but red never the less. He knew that Clarissa's presence always made him feel better, but he'd never imagined that it worked to this effect.

She was actually curing him.

He thought back to when he was younger, growing up being told he was wrong, that he was damned and no one could fix him.

He thought back to the first lie his father ever told him, 'I'm the only one that could ever love you Jonathan.' It was a cruel thing to say to a child, but now he realized that Valentine was wrong then.

And maybe he's wrong now. Looking at the red blood flowing down the drain, Jonathan dared to hope for the first time in his life. Maybe, just maybe "Maybe I can be saved..."

* * *

A/N: 1. Yes it's short, and an interlude, and mostly filler but not everything that needs to be written is a game changer.

2\. So yeah life...I've gone through three guys (one long term since high school, two rebounds, all bad decisions). Started two jobs quit one off them. And finally I just moved into my first apartment to start my junior year of college (credit wise anyway).

Now I'm back and that's all that matters. I'm now on two different planning committees however, and I just got a board position for a new organization on my campus so I'm still going to be swamped, but I've given myself a deadline. I will have this story done by the end of this year, because I'm trying to get serious about pursuing writing as maybe a little more than a hobby.

Anywhore, that's all I have for you right now so until next time darlings...


	9. Chapter 9

The Morgenstern family sat at the breakfast table in awkward silence. Both of Valentine's sons, adopted and biological, sat on either side of their sister looking for all intents and purposes like well trained attack dogs as they glared across the table at their mutual enemy.

The father of the year was doing his best to maintain composure and not pout at his children's obvious attempt to close ranks. He had been concerned when Clarissa didn't show up last night and his mood did not improve when he arrived to breakfast to see that his sons have decided to be her new bodyguards. The meal progressed in an awkward silence, the only sounds being the silverware scraping against their plates, and Valentine's mood continued to darken the longer they held out. When even the scrapping of silverware stopped and it seemed there was no longer a reason for any of them to be there was when someone finally spoke.

"Will you be taking your coffee here or in the study today sir?" A servant appeared out of nowhere to the surprise of the elite warriors in the room, but to their credit the tension of the silence was keeping everyone on edge.

"The Study, and make it two, Clarissa and I have things to discuss before Saturday's ceremony." The servant muttered a petrified affirmative and scurried back to the kitchen. Both of his sons were visibly disturbed at the thought of Clary being alone with him, but they managed to keep their heads on with the only indication of their discomfort being how strongly they each gripped Clary beneath the table.

She placed her hands over theirs and gave each a light squeeze for reassurance before addressing their father. "If we're going to discuss the wedding don't you think Jace should be a part of it as well?"

"Wonderful as I think it is that you're starting to take this seriously, no Jace cannot join us." He turned to address Jace before continuing, "Your training was quite lax under the Lightwood's supervision, you will spend the day with Jonathan in the training room catching up."

None of them liked the idea of being separated but they couldn't risk arguing, lest Valentine decides they'd all be better off as puppets. "Of course Father, we understand." Clary stated for the three of them.

Valentine smirked at their sudden compliance believing that he's finally won. "Excellent." He said as he stood up from the table to leave. "Now off with you boys, and Clarissa follow me." The three gave each other reassuring glances before Clarissa stood to follow the devil into Hell leaving the two love struck fools behind powerless to do anything about it.

* * *

Clary stood in the center of the room as Valentine locked the door behind him. "Please do make yourself comfortable," he said as he turned away from the door to see Clarissa standing petrified before him.

She faltered for a minute searching for the courage to continue, her left hand fiddled with a stele Jonathan had slipped her this morning after they woke up, it was a small comfort in this situation. Braced by the heavenly metal in her pocket she proceed to take a seat in one of the chairs opposite her father's desk.

Instead of sitting down immediately Valentine walked over to his supply cabinet and grabbed another silver vial and syringe before making his was over to his desk. When her sat down he placed the objects in the middle of the desk between the two of them, a silent threat, but a threat nonetheless that made all the blood wash out of Clary's face. "Please don't." The words were a small shaken plea for all that they burst from her lungs. The false bravado melting away at the thought of being Valentine's mindless sex doll once more.

Luckily for her this seemed to be exactly the reaction Valentine was looking for as a smirk cracked his features and a low chuckle escaped the narrow part in his lips as he mocked her weakness. "Now I'm afraid that might not be in our best interest Angel. You disappointed me immensely when I didn't see you last night." His hand reached for the syringe and drew a dose from the vial then proceeded to play with it as if it were a toy, watching her watch it as he twirled it between his fingers.

"I'm sorry..." He voice was soft as she braced herself to continue, pulling her hand out of her pocket and focusing all her attention carefully choosing her next words. "I was scared, and confused...please don't be mad at me." She sat there stock still with a straight face locking to most as if nothing could shake her, but anyone who knew her would see the way her fingernails dug into the arms of her chair, and when she looked up at him and tried to mask the true terror she felt at the thought of him turning her back into his personal puppet her eyes glazed over with tears she refused to let show.

To Clary's credit Valentine was blind to the depth of her internal strife, but he still saw enough to know that he had the higher ground in this situation. "You have nothing to be fear from me Angel," as he said this he got up from his chair and moved around the desk to lean against it directly in front of her, "I just want what's best for us all, and sometimes we have to make sacrifices to do what is best for everyone." He reached towards her and caressed the side of her neck,she flinched away from his touch and his implications, but Valentine seemed willing to let that go as he continued speaking, "You understand that don't you?"

It wasn't really a question, it was a test, and Clary knew it. Answer wong and she winds up with that syringe in her neck. To say she understands would be an obvious lie and that would get her nowhere good, and to tell the truth would land her in a similar pot of hot water. "I'm starting to," she spoke slowly and quietly, forming the words in her mind as she assessed his reactions, "I...I'm scared and I don't want to be drugged again, but I'm entirely at your mercy so I need to learn to accept that," she paused to look up at his face, "and I'm willing to learn to understand."

He kneeled down so they were face to face, with one hand he held the syringe and with the other he pressed her neck down so that their faces were inches apart. His eyes were fixed on hers, and hers were glued to the swirling silver liquid that had the power to take away her will. "I think that is a lot of good progress Clarissa," he put the syringe back down on his desk and felt her visibly relax at its absence, but he wasn't quite done yet. "however, I'm going to need proof of your willingness to...learn." The way he said it left nothing to the imagination, and sent a chill up her spine. He wanted her to willingly sleep with him, and Clary couldn't help but think what a disgusting old pervert this supposed righteous leader was.

"I don't think I'm ready...for that... just yet" She stuttered and paused trying to get the words out as he brought his other hand up to caress her thigh now that it wasn't holding the drug. He leaned forward and buried his head in the crock of her neck, sticking out his tongue to lick the soft skin he found there. His posture held her pinned to the chair and he pressed his body against hers as best he could in his current position.

"If I recall we've already done this several times, so whether or not you think you're ready doesn't really matter." His hand on her thigh worked its way up her skirt and Clary jolted at the intimate contact, trying to back as far into the chair as she could as she wracked her brain for any kind of excuse that would result in her not having to have sex with her father.

"Please, no." She squeaked out as his hands continued to roam her body. "I just need more time to see things your way." She reached for the stele wondering if she would have to use it, and then Valentine sighed and backed away from her reluctantly. Clarissa breathed a deep sigh of relief as he pulled away from her and straightened up.

"I understand that this is difficult for you, and I'm not unreasonable." He paused, whether it was for dramatic effect or waiting for her to say thank you, Clarissa didn't know but she stayed silent unwilling to press her luck further. "Three days. Just until the wedding, and then I expect your full compliance. Is that understood?"

"Perfectly father." She didn't hesitate to respond, it was more than she could have hoped for because either everything goes as planned and Valentine is dead before the I do's, or they've all failed and she'll have bigger things to worry about than her father's disgusting attraction towards her.

"Excellent. Now go join your brothers in the training room, we'll make a proper shadowhunter of you yet." And with that dismissal Clary all but ran from the room with a hurried 'Yes sir.' as the door closed behind her.

* * *

Neither of Valentine's sons was particularly fond of the other.

Jonathan, was very open about his hatred of the Angel boy. The man who took everything from him his father's love, his mother's acceptance, and his sister's heart. Jonathan was determined not to let him get away with it, though he'd long given up on his parents, he would still have Clarissa and may the Angel boy be damned. "

Jace, was more inconspicuous when it came to his resentment for his demonic counterpart. He understood that no one could survive Valentine's parenting with any kind of grace, but Jonathan's complete disregard for anything that he deemed beneath him was disgusting; and if he was willing to admit it to himself, terrifying. To Jace cooperating with him was a means to an end, and once this was all over he wouldn't be at all devastated if the demon boy didn't make it out alive.

Both stood opposite one another in loose fitting workout gear holding identical steel bo staffs silently assessing their opponent. Valentine hadn't been lying when he said that Jace's training had been lax under the Lightwoods, sure all shadowhunters were trained to fight to the best of their abilities, but Valentine had always pushed him beyond that...so very near the edge that sometimes he felt his mind break, until there was nothing left but the will to survive. Jonathan had nine more years of that torture than Jace did, and it was sure to give him a raw advantage in any fight, but Jace wondered if maybe Valentine had pushed his eldest son too far. There was an odd sort of energy around the demon boy, he was unstable, and Jace wondered if he could use that against him. They crossed their staffs between them, each bearing a deceptively loose grip, then retreated into first position. They were statues in an instant, muscles taut with the tension of the moment until Jonathan lunged forward striking like a white cobra the end of his staff striking Jace right between his rib cage and knocking the breath out of his lungs. Jace launched back shifting his weight to his right foot so he wouldn't fall over, "Try to keep up will you," Jonathan said as he fell back into position, "I'm supposed to be bringing you up to speed, not letting you slow me down."

Jace rolled his shoulders and repositioned himself for defense, "Sorry, I wasn't aware we'd started, but I guess that's what I get for expecting a demon to play fair." he drew his staff up in a taunt, and waited for Jonathan to make his move.

He didn't have to wait long the demon boy lunged out again this time swiping his staff downwards towards Jace's head, which he easily deflected pulling his staff up to block the head blow, and with that they began fighting in earnest. Jonathan quick to recover from the block switched grips and pulled the butt of his staff up for a body shot which Jace barely pivoted to avoid. Jonathan set in as the aggressor pursuing Jace with swift, precise, and deadly attacks that never seemed to let up. Jace found himself backed into a corner from the demon's continuous onslaught before Jonathan let up, and made his way back to the center of the room. "If father is going to make me waste my time training you, you could at least make it interesting." Jonathan didn't like fighting people who couldn't defend themselves, it reminded him too much of growing up with Valentine, but it didn't seem like Jace was even trying and that upset him even more.

Jace was surprised when Jonathan let up but he wearily followed him back to the center of the training mat before responding haughtily, "Oh don't worry too much over it, I'm just getting warmed up." They crossed their staffs once more then settled into first position, and this time it was Jace who made the first move. He sidestepped and slashed his staff at Jonathan's side hoping to catch him off guard. Not so as luck would have it Jonathan brought his weapon up in a perfect block then moved into a counter attack swiping his staff down towards Jace's head once more and missing by a hair.

"Really? I was wondering the same thing, though I suppose you are her brother and she has to at least pretend to like you." Jace tried to goad Jonathan back into the fray, but the demon boy refused to take the bait, he knew that Clarissa genuinely cared for him no matter what Jace might say.

They continued this way back and forth, neither one of them tiring nor gaining the advantage. Quite the opposite actually, they seemed to gain momentum the longer they fought, until there was no semblance of restraint between them, and that is how Clary found them. Sweaty, bruised, and locked in a fight that neither was willing to lose.

"You both really ought to save your strength." She was leaning against a wall next to a rack of throwing knives, and both boys stopped to look up as she announced her presence. "After all we only have three days to depose a tyrant."

* * *

A/N: ...I hate writing action sequences...


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Heeeeeeeeeyyy...So I probably owe you an explanation for why I've been MIA for so long but honestly I just haven't felt particularly attached to this story and life plus 18 hr course loads have given me plenty of excuses to avoid it. However, I started writing this story because I wanted to finish something...so I'm going to finish it.

There's a small time jump so this chapter picks up directly on the morning of the wedding ceremony, and I apologize if that makes things seem rushed I was just beyond done with Valentine's character and trying to write the tension of the intermission was not working so I figured I'd skip over it for the sake of moving forward.

* * *

No matter your feelings towards marriage as a concept every little girl has put some thought into what her wedding would look like should she have one. For Clarissa it was never really something in the for front of her mind, but she always knew that no matter what Simon would be by her side. When she broached the subject to her father he refused to hear anything acknowledging her friendship with the downworlder. Claiming any association was beneath her and that she should get some proper shadow hunter companions. "I do have shadowhunter friends. They're also locked up in your dungeon." At the time she hadn't thought much of her casual hint at the Lightwood children's situation but apparently Valentine had, because on the day of the ceremony when Clary left her father's study after their family breakfast there was a familiar raven haired warrior waiting for her.

A week of imprisonment showed little on Isabelle's physical appearances, aside from looking a bit thin it didn't appear as if Valentine was mistreating his prisoners aside from keeping them in cells, but then again a fresh iratze can work wonders for covering up injuries. Clary rubbed her eyes and blinked a few times just to check and see if she was imagining her friend there and she when received a relieved smile from the other girl she launched herself into Isabelle's arms sobbing apologies, words of concern, and comforting assurances. "Isabelle! How are you here? I can't believe he let you out, and I'm sorry I didn't get you out sooner,"

"Slow down Fray," Isabelle lightly chuckled as she interrupted Clary's apologetic breakdown, "remember to breath. I'm fine now, Alec too. Valentine released us this morning saying that it would look bad if Jace got married without his parabatai at his side. Is it true though? Are you and Jace really getting married." Her forehead ceased as she tried to wrap her mind around Valentine's reasoning, but Clary knew she wouldn't get anywhere because she doesn't even have half the information.

"It's a long story Izzy..." She began drawing back in on herself as she contemplated whether or not to tell her friend the whole truth, wondering whether Izzy would hate her after.

"Well we still have a few hours before someone comes to collect us. Tell me the basics then fill me in after whatever crazy suicidal plan you have to get out of this goes off without a hitch.

* * *

To Valentine's credit the ceremony was beautifully planned. Set up in a rolling meadow along the shore of Lake Lyn the guests milled about between banquet banquet tables covered in ivory and emerald cloths as they waited for the bride to arrive.

Just as the sun began to set the attendees took their seats aside the aisle where Jonathan, Alec, and Jace stood waiting.

For an event that's supposed to be joyful, no one present could summon the feeling through the occasions overbearing tension. The trained warriors all felt as if something were about to snap, and to their credit they weren't wrong. As the bride walked down the aisle to meet her groom every eye was on her as they waited for the other shoe to drop. Still, none of them expected it to come in the form of a knife flying towards the father of the bride as they reached the alter. When Jonathan released his dagger Jace and the Lightwood's pressed forward to assist Jonathan in holding off Valentine and his fanatics as Clary launched in a dead sprint towards the lake, or more accurately the rune circle laid there to summon the angel. Wind whipped across her face and she kicked off the impractical shoes that seemed to find every pebble and crack in the ground as she made her way to the lake's edge. Her heart pounded against her ribcage as she heard Valentine calling for her pursuit, and it made her run faster.

When she got to the circle she collapsed to her knees in the center of it and scrambled for here stele to make the final alteration, her name over her father's, as fast as she could. Then the world went up in flames around her, halting most of her pursuers in their tracks and burning those who failed to stop in time with the gilded fires of heaven. The screams of the dying and the sounds of blades clashing faded behind her as Clary rose within the circle and faced the Angel.

Rising two stories out of the lake from the waist up was the most imposing creature she had ever encountered or imagined, and she fell to her knees again but this time in a reverent kneel as she waited for Raziel to address her.

"Clarissa Morgenstern. Why have you summoned me?" His voice echoed around her and through her, to the point where she couldn't tell if he'd shouted his address or whispered it in her mind. As she lifted her face to look upon him she was once again stunned by his distant cold beauty, and the speech she practiced with her more diplomatic counterparts fled entirely from her mind.

"We need your help," the words tumbling out of her mouth as if the Angel was simply forcing open her mind rather than waiting for an answer.

"Need is a relative term my child. I can think of a dozen other ways that you could solve your current situation without my assistance, but if my help is what you truely desire as master of this circle you may compel a single wish of me that I shall grant without further question." Though his words seemed to soften towards her Clarissa could still feel the weight of his existence on her very soul, the wrongness of his presence made it hard to breath as the air was so charged with his power.

She knew the words that she should say 'Kill Valentine and his fanatics,' but for some reason she found herself hesitating. He'd die far to quickly at the angels hand, never experiencing or regretting any of the pain he'd caused her. She wanted him to burn alive for eternity, but she couldn't ask that cruelty of an angel. She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by Raziel once more.

"Choose wisely Clarissa, I will grant only a single request of my children." His words sank like a stone in her stomach forcing her to feel the weight of her decision, after all she had to do what was best for everyone not indulge her own selfish desires.

"Kill Valentine, and strip his followers of their runes." Her voice was strong when she spoke, stronger than she felt.

"So it will be done, but know that all of your troubles will not die with him. You are changed Valentine's daughter." The fires around them seemed to sink into the ground exposing Clary once again to the world around her and directly outside of the rune circle she saw her father seconds before he burst into golden flames.

She could almost hear the Angel laughing and the rest of the world faded away as she watched her wish come true and Valentine burned.

* * *

Valentine's children stood in the reception room of the guard waiting for the newly reinstated council to pass judgement upon them. Everything immediately after their assassination plot was mostly procedural. They released Valentine's prisoners and everyone was trying to pretend as if the whole thing never happened, the only issue with that were the three glaring reminders that it did, his children. Jace of course had nothing to fear, after spending nearly a decade as the Clave's golden child, and with the lightwoods to vouch for their adopted son he'd been allowed to return to his normal life with relative ease. It was the ones who beared the man's name that the Clave felt uncertain of.

The Clave doesn't like anything new or unknown, and the Morgenstern siblings are both. It doesn't matter that the trio just saved them all, the Clave, a group of rigid traditionalists, remains wary of anything that grates against their rules. The issue they're encountering is that they do not trust their mother to handle them, and in their eyes Valentine's hybrid children needed to be handled, lest they decide to turn on the Clave like their father did.

"Why is this taking so long? It's not like we did anything wrong!?" Clary exclaimed as she paced around the small holding room.

"Maybe we haven't Clary, but Jonathan has more blood on his hands that the entire council combined. You can't expect them to just let him walk free." Now that they no longer needed each other Jace was letting his blatant hatred of the demon boy show. Unfortunately for him Jonathan was glad to use Jace's hatred to his advantage

"He isn't wrong Clary. I've done horrible things that should never be forgiven. They have every right to execute me." He sounded lost, and the levels of self loathing in his voice only served to bring Clarissa more to his side, she does so love collecting beautiful broken things.

"I forgave you. And you just helped save them all, if that isn't worth a second chance in their eyes then screw them!" She stoped pacing and stood in front of her brother looking him directly in the eyes for the first time since they arrived. "They should give you a chance to make your own decisions and judge us on our own merit not on our blood."

Though he was goading her to react this was Jonathan couldn't help but be warned by her passion and faith in him. He wanted to reach out and touch her, to pull her against him and kiss every inch of her beautiful face slowly and sweetly but he knew she wasn't ready for that yet. Their father had broken her, and who knows how much of her speech she was applying to herself as well. "I hope your faith in me isn't misplaced."

With that they returned to their separate corners Jace choosing to remain silent rather than risk having Jonathan turn his words against him again, and the other two where to lost in contemplation to hold a conversation. When the door finally opened Jia Penhallow came through with a soft smile on her face.

"The council has cleared you of all charges, you're free to return home whenever you choose."

* * *

A/N: So obviously that's not the end, originally this was a fair amount longer with a full trial and a bit more angelic exposition, but I found that trying to write all of that and getting it to fit together in one or two chapters was just entirely too much work for a transition section. I will most likely not update until after my last final next week except some minor edits, but we'll be seeing a lot more of Jon when I do...


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